


And Miles to Go Before I Sleep

by InkAndAmaranth



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death Fix, F/M, Hexanna, Honestly Roxanna MacMillan deserved better??, I promise there's a happy ending, It was gonna be slow burn but then I accidentally added accelerant, recovery fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-08-04 14:31:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16348496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkAndAmaranth/pseuds/InkAndAmaranth
Summary: Having survived John's attempt on her life, Roxanna is left to pick up the pieces. She's not alone - Henrik's by her side, even if neither of them can quite decide what that means yet. But the road to recovery won't be easy, especially when the past doesn't want to let go.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfic in ages but Roxanna MacMillan deserved better, so here we are. I apologise in advance to anyone who works at an actual hospital because the medicine in this is at least 90% bull.

Henrik clung to her fingers in the dim light, waiting for them to come to life beneath his. They’d removed the ligature. He hoped that was enough, like removing a dam and watching the river that was Roxanna MacMillan begin flowing again. Moving. Living. Breathing.

“Mister Hanssen, she won’t wake up for another few hours.” He turned to see Dom stood in the doorway. “She won’t disappear if you take a break.”

Henrik shook his head and ran a thumb over her knuckles. “Won’t she?”

The younger man nodded, taking that as his answer. “Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Mister Copeland.” When the door shut and they were alone again, he stood and reached out to brush her hair back from her face, washed out as it was against the bed sheets. “I can’t let you go just yet, so you’ll have to hang on. Can you do that for me?”

* * *

He caught her arm as it swung out, hitting his hands with a resounding smack, but he wasn’t so lucky with the leg and her messy aim nearly knocked him off his feet. She felt a jolt of triumph at gaining that leverage.  


“Get away from me, John!”

The strained gasp she heard was not like John at all. “Roxanna, it’s me, it’s Henrik.”

Where she’d been about to pull back to throw another punch, her arm slackened in his grip. “Henrik?” She opened her eyes and they widened as she took him in. Chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, she pulled her arm back towards her and turned her head to see the whole room. Her question came out all croaky. “Henrik, I’m alive?”

“I should hope so.”

As if that had kicked something inside her into high gear, she tried to sit up, failed and flopped back down onto the bed. Trying to fight him had drained what little energy she had. “He tried to kill me. John, he… He’s killed others…”

“We know, Roxanna. It’s alright.” Henrik sat on the edge of the bed and his hands rested on the covers, as if wanting to reach for her but never quite doing so. “We’re more concerned about you. Whether you’d be able to move or speak, whether you’d even wake up.”

A thin film of tears formed in her eyes. “No one could hear me.” She lifted a hand to her mouth, her bottom lip trembling. “I was screaming for… I was screaming, Henrik.” By the time she’d finished his name, the first sob had fought its way out.

It was only a moment before he reacted and pulled her against him, tucking her head beneath his chin. She shook beneath the soothing hand he placed on her back, drawing in laboured breaths, grateful for his flouting their usual unspoken rules. “You’re safe now, don’t you worry.”

It was a while before she stilled under his touch, mumbling against his chest, “Sorry.”

Henrik was already shaking his head. “Don’t apologise. I- We are glad to have you back...”

He felt her nod more than anything else and her hand inched further around him. “How did you find him out?”

“After you… After your cardiac arrest, we had to scan you and that’s when we found what he’d done. It was only a matter of time until we put the rest together.” He buried his face in her hair, turning to rest his cheek there. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen. This may never have happened had you had someone there for you.”

She pulled back, her fingers digging in to his shoulders to stay sat up. “Stop, Henrik.” Days of being unable to speak had worn away at her voice. “I’m alive.”

Henrik nodded in a dismissive sort of way and, somehow, she knew it wouldn’t be quite as simple as telling him to stop. “I need to call for the others. There are tests to run, as I’m sure you know. Are you ready for that?”

“Yes.” Her sigh got lost in somewhere in her throat as she lowered herself down onto the bed. “Yes.”

* * *

   


Though he’d stayed while the F1s drew blood and asked questions, Henrik left her to complete the journey to CT alone. Well, that wasn’t strictly true – a pair of porters were with her. But he was gone, having pulled the covers over her before he left.

All her body’s little aches made themselves known. Her feet were cold, her throat burned, her back ached and she felt tired enough that she could fall asleep then and never wake up, if not for the fact that the thought of it made something inside her curl up in a tense ball.

That ball remained in the pit of her stomach when she reached CT. An unfamiliar face was waiting there to see the scan results.

“It’s good to see you awake, Miss MacMillan.”

“Who?”

“I’m the locum consultant filling in for you until you’re back on your feet.”

“Here for my job?” Roxanna cringed – the joke sounded a bit pathetic in her weak voice.

The woman laughed, confident but human. “They’ve made it pretty clear to me that I’m just keeping your seat warm, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“If you say so.” The edges of the older woman’s lips quirked upwards.

“Alright, let’s get started. If you need to stop, just let me know.”

Left alone and in silence, Roxanna felt as if the room was expanding around her and the quiet spreading with it. In it, she could almost believe that this was all a lie. John had succeeded and she was gone. What had she done to deserve this chance?

“Roxanna, everything alright?” The locum punctured that bubble and warmth returned to the room.

Her words shook as the effect wore off. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

“It’ll be fine, you know. One neurosurgeon to another, we’ll sort this out.”

It was then that Roxanna smiled properly for the first time since she’d woken up.

* * *

She hadn’t noticed it until she’d laid down to sleep. The lights had been dimmed in ITU and she was curled up under the covers, but there was no mistaking John Gaskell’s name next to hers on that bracelet. There was no way she could unsee it, and closing her eyes only brought her back to that time.  


Turning over, she looked up at Henrik. He was asleep in the chair beside her, his head at an odd angle and his tie loosened. She should’ve told him to go home and get some decent sleep but she couldn’t let go of that idea that, if Henrik was with her, nothing bad could happen.

Her gaze moved back to the bracelet and she slipped a finger under the edge, feeling it bite into her skin as she tried to rip it. When it didn’t give, she reached over the edge of the bed to take the pen from the sudoku book in Henrik’s lap.

She’d rolled back onto the bed and was busy trying to snap the bracelet using the pen when he stirred next to her. “Roxanna?” It came out all slurred, punctuated by a few sleepy blinks.

Roxanna froze and looked up. “Henrik, I woke you up…”

“It’s fine. The nurse coming in to do your obs would’ve woken me anyway.” He nodded towards the pen in her hand. “What’s keeping you up?”

She glanced away, her cheeks prickling with heat. “It’s silly, really. It’s just this.” She held her wrist out to him.

He took it, fingers gentle, and it was a few seconds before he said, “Oh, Roxanna…”

Taking his sigh to be one of exasperation, she jumped to add, “I know it’s ridiculous and I shouldn’t let it bother me, but it’s keeping me awake.”

“Here, let me.” And then he tore through the bracelet, screwing it up and putting it in his jacket pocket. He grasped her hand and traced his thumb across the back of it. “All gone. We’ll get you another in the morning.”

Her fingers tightened around his. “If only it was that easy.”

“Even if he’s still on our minds, physically, he is gone. The police arrested him the same day we found out.” His tone was low and warm despite the subject matter, and she tried to smile to make him feel it had been of some comfort.

“How long ago was that?”

“Five days ago. You’d been off sedation for about half a day when you woke up.”

Almost a week she’d been encased in that room. That’s what it felt like – the door sealing her into the room where she was sealed into her own body, just like John had intended. “I want to see outside.” The words were out before she’d even realised she’d said them.

“I can speak to the locum about it tomorrow-“

She shook her head. “I mean now, Henrik.”

This time, his sigh was exasperated. “Roxanna, you know you’re not well enough to leave the hospital yet. You only woke up today.”

“Then take me to a window. I need to get out of here, Henrik.” She reached her other hand out for his, eyes pleading.

Henrik stared at her offered hand. This was asking a lot of him, to break the rules and risk further harm coming to her in the same breath, but there was a tightening feeling in her chest that was welling up inside her.

“Alright, but not a word of this to anyone.” He let go of her hand and stood up. “Wait here while I get a wheelchair.”

“I can walk,” she insisted, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed to demonstrate her point.

Henrik frowned. “Then you won’t have any trouble walking to the door without my help, will you?” He stepped back and gestured ahead.

To her credit, the stubborn face she gave him betrayed none of the uncertainty that came rushing in in the seconds before she pushed off the bed. Not that it mattered, because she stayed upright for all of two seconds before he had to grab her to stop her knees from giving out.

“Careful…” His arm curved around her back, taking enough of her weight for her to stand on shaky legs. “Do you see my point now?”

She rested her arm over his and gave a heavy nod. “Fine, I can’t walk on my own. But that doesn’t mean you can’t help me.”

“I don’t suppose you’re going to take no for an answer?” She shook her head. “Hold on tight, then.”

“At least you don’t have to bring the IV stand too,” she joked, as he shifted to stand beside her with one hand in hers and the other around her waist.

She felt his chuckle as a puff of warm air on the back of her neck. “Thank heavens for small mercies, hmm? Whenever you’re ready.”

Their progress was slow but, when he let go of her hand to open the door to the corridor, the air felt different. Fresher, somehow. Her bare feet met cold floor. Then Henrik was guiding her down to the end of the corridor, through the double doors to the stairwell. By that point, she was leaning heavily on him and her muscles shook with the effort but a flight of stairs still separated her from the window.

“We can stop now, the stairs don’t seem like the best idea.”

They were most definitely not the best idea. “Please, Henrik.”

Wordlessly, he helped her down the stairs. It was a long descent littered with moments of mild panic on his part when she leaned too far forward. She only felt the tension leave his muscles as he watched her shift her weight onto the rail in front of the window. She sought out his gaze. “Thank you, I know I’m being difficult.”

“And I know you wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.” He rested a hand on her lower back.

She turned to look out into the car park. It wasn’t the view that had brought her here, with the wet tarmac reflecting back familiar lights. Someone was walking from the entrance to their car. For a second, she could put herself out there in the chill. “It’s going to be a long time before I’m recovered, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps, but there’s no rush. You have time and this hospital on your side.”

“And what about in months’ time, when I’m still struggling?”

“Roxanna, you are a miracle.” She turned to look at him, lips slightly parted. Henrik didn’t believe in miracles yet here he was, believing in her. “You were dead for 53 seconds and, had you not come back to us, things could’ve been very different. As is probably the case with everyone else, it is enough for me that you’re alive. I don’t expect you to put yourself back together in a hurry.”

“Thank you, Henrik,” she murmured, before tearing herself away to look back at the window. Her head came to rest on his shoulder and, if not for the pain in her body that led them back to her room, she would’ve stayed there forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to get this out yesterday but that didn't happen, so have it at 1am instead. Enjoy!

“So, will I walk again?” Roxanna regretted the joke as soon as she’d said it. Beside her, Henrik cleared his throat quietly and the locum winced from where she stood at the end of the bed. She decided she didn’t like the idea either, even if she already knew she was capable of something because of the night before.

The locum turned the tablet she was holding over to her. “Why don’t you tell me? I thought it might be an interesting experiment to have you interpret your own scans, to test how much of your medical knowledge is intact.”

When she took it, Henrik sat up straighter in his chair and she felt a whisper of the eagerness she’d held when they were young, breaking into libraries just to prove a point. “Well, I have brain damage. But we already knew that.”

“Anything else?”

“It’ll most likely affect my motor control.” Roxanna pursed her lips and held the tablet away from her. “If this were my patient, I’d recommend physio.”

It wasn’t much of a surprise and she _was_ glad to have kept her memories, the loss of which would’ve been far crueller after recent events. Yet having the scan results at her fingertips reminded her that that was a world she wouldn’t be returning to any time soon.

The locum’s smile was apologetic as she took the tablet back. “Good to see there’s still a doctor in there, although I’d appreciate it if you kept the backseat driving to a minimum. Now, I don’t feel comfortable starting your physio sessions right away. You’ll need your strength, so I want to see you resting and eating well. Okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all for now, then. I’ll leave you to it and check back tomorrow.” The younger woman nodded to them and then left the room.

When the door had closed after her, Roxanna slid down against her pillows.

“You’re disappointed,” Henrik said, taking her hand in his – whether it was instinctive or completely intentional wasn’t clear. They were still colouring outside the lines of their friendship but she didn’t want to be the one to acknowledge it.

“No.” Then, after a second, she conceded, “yes. More annoyed than disappointed, actually. I think some small part of me was hoping I was just tired last night.”

He squeezed her fingers. “If it means anything, you _were_ tired – otherwise you wouldn’t have slept through Essie’s visit this morning.”

Roxanna bit her lip, feeling a pang of guilt. “It’s probably for the best. It’s not that I blame her, I’m just not sure I’m ready to…” She knew that Essie had been fooled, just like the rest of them. But there were conversations she wasn’t ready to have, places she wasn’t ready to go back to – trapped in that body, feeling the chance to save her own life slip through her still fingers with every passing second that John knew she could communicate.

“It will take time. Sacha said he was coming up to visit you after lunch.”

She gave him a weak smile. “How are they all on Keller?”

“Glad to hear you’re alright, it’s been a tense few days for everyone.”

She nodded, looking down at their hands. “And how are you? Have you been home since the crash?”

“Once or twice, yes.”

Her gaze swept over the creases in his shirt. Henrik being Henrik, he’d done his best to salvage the state of his clothes to make it look like he had but she knew better than that. Even now, he was squirming a little at the reminder of his current state. “Liar.”

“I’m fine as I am. Roxanna, what are you-”

It occurred to her that any friend would’ve gone home by now, but Henrik was acting as family. The least she could’ve done was to pay that back.

She shuffled to the end of the bed and rummaged around in her handbag, producing a set of keys attached to a bright pink keyring. “If you won’t go to your own home, go to mine. I need you to pack a bag for me and, if you happen to drop by yours for a shower and a proper meal…”

After a moment’s hesitation, the decision playing out in the minute shifts of his expression, he took the keys from her and turned them over in his hands. Each of them had been marked with a different letter in black sharpie.

“H is for home,” she said.

The unintended double meaning hung in the air between them before he snapped out of it and picked his jacket up from the chair. “I’ll try not to be too long.”

She put a hand on his arm. “I’m a big girl, Henrik. I _can_ survive on my own,” she said, as if trying to convince herself as much as him.

His features softened. “I know.”

When the door closed behind him, she sat back. Their conversation had left a lingering warmth in her chest but she still felt a little bare without him at her bedside. Like someone had taken her covers away on a cold day.

She could survive a few hours alone – John wouldn’t take that from her. Right?

* * *

Some time after he’d left, an F1 had come to draw some blood and a few absent-minded answers from her. She felt bad for her distant manner but it was hard to stay in touch with the outside world when thoughts of the accident circled around in her head, demanding her attention turn inwards.

She’d claimed a pen from them to give herself something to focus on and was trying to get a steady grip on it. After the exertion of the night before, she was happy to stay put and (mostly) behave. She only realised how intently she’d been staring at her hands when she heard a laugh from the doorway and looked up to see Sacha there. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t.” His expression become suddenly serious and she felt the twist of guilt in her gut. “You’re trying your best.”

The hand holding the pen dropped into her lap. Henrik was wired with anxiety for her, as much as she’d hated him leaving, and she saw echoes of it in the other staff she’d come into contact with. “I’m not made of glass, Sacha.”

A flicker of understanding crossed his features. “Right, of course. I suppose there’s no point in asking how you’ve been then?”

“If it’s any indication, I’ve been sat here for five minutes trying to hold this pen properly.”

“Sounds like a whale of a time.” He grinned, hands in his pockets. “I could bring you something to read next time I pop round, make it a bit less mind-numbing?”

“That’d be wonderful. But, if you bring me one of those cheesy romance novels that uses ‘swoon’ too many times, you’ll be reading it aloud on Keller.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

When he laughed, she found herself doing the same – until something caught in her throat and it dissolved into a coughing fit. As she hunched over, coughing becoming retching, Sacha held some hastily-grabbed tissues in one hand and placed the other on her back. It left almost as soon as it had come and she straightened up with a groan.

“Alright? I can get Henrik, if you’d like.”

“I thought you weren’t going to ask me that? And no, I don’t want to worry him anymore than he already is.”

The coughing had brought back the croakiness in her tone so he passed her a glass of water. “He cares about you a lot, Roxanna. He may not always show it…”

“He has his ways, does Henrik.” An unwelcome image flashed across her mind: John leaning close to her, whispering about how much he cared for her before he delivered the substance that should’ve ended her life. Her locked in, screaming, then giving up. She tried to blot it out with the memory of how it had felt to be tucked into Henrik’s arms when she’d woken up, to be soothed by his hands.

Sacha continued, a crease in his brow the only sign he’d noticed her distraction. “Where is he, anyway?”

“I sent him home to freshen up. It didn’t feel right, putting other people out like that. I’m just biding my time until he gets back.” She sighed. “Do you think that sounds needy?”

“It sounds reasonable,” he said. “Have you tried sleeping? He’ll be back before you know it.”

She shook her head, perhaps a little too firmly for someone who didn’t want anyone to worry about her. “I can’t.”

He frowned. “Are you sure? The rest could do you good.”

“Believe me, I’ve tried.” She shook her head again, gentler this time. “Not without Henrik here and, even then…”

“I see.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Then at least let him do that. I understand if you can’t open up about what happened but let him be close, it’s what you both deserve.”

‘Close’ brought her back to John, his stoic mutterings, as if he was always on the verge. Perhaps, in his mind, he was. She tried to push this down too but the harder she tried, the further she sank.

Before she even realised, Sacha was already stood closer with his hand on her shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got another visitor. Take care, I’ll see you later.”

He left and stepped aside to reveal her next visitor. Meena wasn’t wearing scrubs and her eyes were puffy. Roxanna wondered if she’d actually stopped crying since the incident. She paused a few feet away from the bed, hands fidgeting.

“Sit down,” Roxanna said.

Meena walked with tentative footsteps to sit in the chair beside her bed. While Henrik had settled down at her side like it was the most natural thing, the way she sat was almost apologetic.

“How’ve you been?”

Meena blinked at her. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I ran you over, I wasn’t paying attention. You wouldn’t _be here_ if it wasn’t for me.” The tone of her voice rose and the tension in her shoulders rose with each passing word and Roxanna knew she had to interrupt before it all bubbled over.

“This was John’s doing, Meena. If I hadn’t run out into the road, he’d have found some other way to…get rid of me.” Her stomach turned at the realisation. John had treated her as an obstacle, in the end, and had moved her aside.

The younger woman shook her head and her eyes turned glassy with unshed tears, words stuck behind shaking lips.

Roxanna put the cup in her hand down and sought out her gaze. “What you did was brave. You put yourself in harm’s way to help me.”

“I was a coward – I left without answering your message.”

“I sent you that message hiding in a store room in the wet lab.” She let out a humourless laugh. “We were both scared.”

“Are you still scared?”

“I’m trying, that’s what I am.” The words were hard to swallow.

“Me too.”

Roxanna gave her a half-smile. “I’m glad. Now, how’s AAU been treating you?”

“Well, I-“

She was promptly cut off when Roxanna lurched forward to grab the discarded tissues and started to retch. Meena stood but only hovered beside the bed, not sure what to do with herself until the coughing fit had ended.

The older woman groaned and swiped at her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Should I get someone?”

“No, I’ll be fine, I just-“

Meena’s face fell. “Is that blood?”

She followed the younger doctor’s gaze to the tissue and her head spun as she watched the red creep outwards. She reached a hand out but it felt as if she didn’t have full control over the limb. “Actually, Meena, I need…” The words drowned in her throat and her limbs felt light, the tissue falling into her lap barely noticed.

She felt herself begin to fall backwards and the pale colours of her room blended into one as she vaguely registered Meena calling her name.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing that hit her senses was Cedarwood, stronger than anything else. The next thing was a gentle hand brushing through her hair and its owner muttering words she couldn’t understand.

It was Henrik. Henrik, whispering to her in his mother tongue.

She caught a few words, like her name and the Swedish word for ‘you’. She’d tried to learn bits back at university but hadn’t got much further than pronouns and a verb or two because she’d been too nervous to ask for Henrik’s assistance. Now, he spoke the words to her like he was reading a bedtime story.

As her awareness returned in bits and pieces, the beeping of the monitor beside her picked up.

“Ah, you’re awake.” The hand that had travelled down her cheek began to pull away. Sacha’s words echoing in her addled brain, she nuzzled into it as if giving him permission to carry on.

She tried to speak, only for it to come out as a groan.

“Shh, slowly. I’ll get you a drink.” She felt a weight lift from the mattress to her left and, a few seconds later, he was cupping the back of her head to help her drink.

“What happened?” She winced at her own grating voice.

“We had to take you back into theatre.” When she opened her eyes, she saw the creases that anxiety had worked into his forehead. “You had a tear in the lining of your stomach that we missed initially. Sacha fixed it, so you should be alright now.”

She sighed and she let her eyes drift shut again. “Tell him I said thank you.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Although I think you’d best speak to Doctor Chowdhury, you gave her quite the scare.”

Wrinkling her nose, she turned further into his hand. “Brilliant. She was walking on egg shells around me as it is.”

“Honestly, Roxanna. When will you think of yourself?”

The corner of her mouth tweaked upward. “You do enough of that for both of us.” She brought a groggy hand up to squeeze his arm and opened her eyes when she brushed across the unfamiliar material of his sleeve. “And you changed too. Thank you.”

Henrik shook his head. “I’ll have you know I even took a shower and packed your bag. Though you’ll have to forgive me if my fashion sense isn’t perfect as far as pyjamas are concerned.”

“I just want to stop smelling like disinfectant, that’s all.”

“Well, your wish has been granted.” He broke contact to hold up the bag for her to see then put it back at his feet.

She laughed. “Where would I be without you?” When the laughter died down, she said, “in all seriousness, thank you. You must have places to be but you’re here, with me.”

“I have no patients to see, I’m currently on leave.” He took her hand. “There is no one more important than you and nowhere else I can think of being.”

* * *

The lingering effects of the general anaesthetic had started to retreat when their quiet was interrupted by the locum.

“How are you feeling? Symptoms gone?”

“Better than I did when I woke up. And I take it you mean other than the obvious?” Roxanna smirked. “Yes, they’re gone.”

The locum nodded. “I did have you booked in for physio today, just to test the waters. The appointment’s still there but it wasn’t made with this setback in mind. Which means I’m going to observe and, if I think you’re not ready, we stop. No arguments.”

Roxanna’s cheeks coloured faintly knowing that the other neurosurgeon had guessed her need to push herself. The word ‘setback’ echoed in her mind, bitter and poisonous. “I take it I’m not the first doctor you’ve treated.”

“You’re not the first consultant I’ve treated either, but you’ve got a long way to go before you become the worst.” She wheeled over the wheelchair that she’d brought with her and patted one of the handles. “Ready?”

Then Henrik leaned forward in his chair and asked, “May I be present?” He looked to Roxanna for approval.

Roxanna’s answering nod was followed by the younger surgeon’s reply, “I don’t see why not, as long as you’re just observing.”

Clinging to the bed for support, Roxanna shifted off the bed and into the wheelchair. Henrik and the locum’s response kicked in a second too late and they pulled back when they realised she’d already (gracelessly) found her way there, like trying to catch something then realised it had already hit the floor.

To her credit, the locum recovered quickly. “Off we go.”

Halfway there, there was a beep and the wheelchair stopped. She reached for the pager at her belt. “Damn. I’m needed in theatre, I’ll have to leave you two on your own.” She turned to face Henrik. “Just take her to physio, they’ll be able to tell you where to go from there.”

Then she was off down the corridor.

And that was how they ended up, just the two of them and the physiotherapist, with Henrik sat on the sidelines trying not to interfere. He kept making small movements and either trying to pass them off as something else or slowly pulling back. Roxanna wasn’t sure whether she wanted him to give in and take part of the ache away, or stay there and let her do it on her own.

“Remember, only do what you can,” the physio said. There was a shaky note in his voice that said he wasn’t so sure she was really listening.

She could feel a bead of sweat roll down the side of her face at the first stiff step she took. Muscles that she’d forgotten she had trembled. Her gaze was fixed on the floor, on her bare feet. She understood now at least a little of what had pushed Ollie and Jac to test their limits.

“Roxanna.” Henrik’s words were a plea as much as they were a warning.

“Just a little bit longer.” She took another step – or she tried, but her legs had other plans and she found herself rushing face first to meet the ground.

There was a blur in the corner of her eye and a suited arm caught her around the waist. “Easy does it.”

Pulling her closer, he helped her move towards the chairs he’d been sat on before. Her face heated up – she wanted it to be because of Henrik’s close proximity, or even just the heat. But it was because she felt exposed, embarrassed at being seen so vulnerable and so attached to Henrik by the physiotherapist, embarrassed that she’d almost fallen flat on her face in front of both of them doing something she’d have taken for granted just over a week before.

Henrik’s arm was still around her as they sat and a light squeeze broke her out of her thoughts. He held a bottle of water out to her. “Drink up.”

She took a few mouthfuls then leaned back against Henrik’s shoulder, unable to do much more than let him rub her back with one hand.

“I think that’s enough for now.” The physio came back into her line of sight, the next words meant only for her. “You did well, just try not to push it so much next time.”

She nodded, but only to be polite, knowing she would push it next time. And the time after that, and the time after that because she couldn’t get away from that gnawing feeling inside of her.

* * *

When they arrived back at her room, there were two bulky figures waiting inside. She didn’t get to see them, because Henrik left her chair off to the side so he could open the door. Instead, she strained her ears to catch their conversation.

“What is this?” That was Henrik.

“We’re just here to ask a few questions.”

“This is intensive care, Miss MacMillan is still recovering.”

“We’re aware of that but hers is the only statement we don’t have yet, and it’s crucial to proceed with the investigation. It won’t take long.”

“She’s exhausted, can’t you come back later?”

“The longer we wait, the more drawn out this investigation will be. Please, Mister Hanssen.”

“I don’t-“

“Hello?” When Roxanna spoke up, the conversation ground to a halt and there was some shuffling as Henrik and the two strangers moved onto the corridor. As they emerged, her stomach dropped when she saw that they were police.

“Miss MacMillan.” One of the police officers gave her a courteous nod. “We’ve come to take your statement.”

“But, if you’re not ready-“

“I’ll do it.” With one tired hand, she gestured for Henrik to take hold of the handles and the police officers followed them in.

When she was sat in bed once again, she faced the two officers standing at the end of the bed. “Before we start, do I need to find myself a lawyer?”

The two men exchanged glances. “No, ma’am. I think there’s been a miscommunication. We’re not interviewing you as a suspect, we’re interviewing you as a victim.”

“What?” Her lips parted. “But I…”

The other officer chipped in, “we’re aware of your part in the trial. However, you make for a very sympathetic defendant and trying to prosecute you would be pointless, a jury would never convict. You’re of more use to us as a victim.”

“We’ll need as detailed an account as you can manage. That means going back to the very beginning.”

She blinked, realising that she had no idea. ‘The beginning’ was the end of a roll of Sellotape she couldn’t find - she went round and round and picked everything she’d ever known undone with her nails.

“Roxanna?” Henrik placed a hand on her shoulder.

She swallowed. “What do you mean by ‘the very beginning’?”

“Try starting when you joined the trial and we’ll see where that takes us,” one of the officers said.

* * *

When they finally left, their goodbyes quiet and apologetic, Roxanna could feel the weight of exhaustion dragging at her limbs. They’d offered her a chance to stop several times but, once she’d started, it felt as if the time was right then. She didn’t know when she’d be able to do that again.

As Henrik busied himself, she stared ahead. Talking to the police had taken the past few decades to pieces and left them like lego bricks, scattered about in her head. In that, her closest friend – who was currently pulling the covers over her - was a moving part. Too much to take in. She needed stillness to make sense of it all.

“Henrik, can you do something for me?”

“What do you need?”

“Some space.” His eyes took on a wounded look. “My head’s all over the place, I need time to figure some things out. Just for tonight.”

“Of course.” He took a deep breath and gave her a small smile. “I’ll come by after breakfast and see how you are. Take care, Roxanna.”

She caught his hand as it left the covers, giving it a quick squeeze before letting go. “Thank you.”

Then she was alone, aggressively trying to bury herself in their days at university and beyond to block out her surroundings. She’d been that way for some time when Dom appeared in the doorway. Before she could open her mouth, he held up his hands. “I know visiting’s over, I’m just here to drop something off. Mister Hanssen thought you might want this.”

He walked up and put two things on the bed in front of her. One was a note and the other was a pair of earphones wrapped round the battered iPod shuffle that David had bought her as part of a birthday present, already powered up.

“Night.”

“Night,” she replied, before turning her attention to what he’d brought. She unfolded the note. It was written in Henrik’s neat handwriting, and read, ‘It always helped you figure things out at university – H.’

She untangled the earphones, placed them in her ears and clicked play. She froze when she heard Sandy Denny playing through the ear buds. Biting her lip, she settled down under the covers. If she closed her eyes, she could help almost imagine herself back to the 1980s when she thought nothing was impossible.


	4. Chapter 4

Sandy Denny was playing in her head in her physio session the next morning. As much as she knew she had needed time alone last night, she couldn’t look Henrik in the eye. The locum was there, taking notes, smiling whenever Roxanna caught her eye and hopefully ignorant of the tension between the two old friends.

“Careful, we don’t want a repeat of yesterday,” the physio said.

Behind her, the locum looked up at that. “What do you mean by ‘a repeat of yesterday’?” She looked between them all: Henrik was silent, the physio bit her lip and Roxanna stared down at her feet. “I’m waiting…”

“She was just a bit unsteady, weren’t you Roxanna?” Had the physio not been facing away from the locum, the consultant would’ve seen in her face how much of an understatement it was.

Roxanna hummed her agreement but noticed Henrik bristle out of the corner of her eye.

As she took another step, she felt more and more claustrophobic. She was trapped between Henrik’s tense posture, the physio (with a slight nervous disposition) being caught in the middle, and the locum’s watchful eye. The last two were only doing their job, and she knew this felt like duty to Henrik.

She felt tired just thinking about it, but that could’ve been from how little she’d slept that night.

“Alright, can you turn around and come back to me?” The physio moved to stand the other side of the room.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Henrik said. “She-“

The locum interrupted, “fell over yesterday? I guessed, but I want to make my own assessment of what she can do.”

Roxanna sighed. “Can we please stop talking about me like I’m not here?”

The locum straightened up. “Sorry, Roxanna. Carry on.”

Henrik stood and cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Frustration simmered inside her. The past twelve hours had felt like a giant step back from wherever the hell they’d been that meant she could wake up with his hands in her hair and nobody would question it. “Henrik, don’t-“

She reached out a hand, intending to grab his arm as he left. On instinct, she took a step out to widen her reach but her brain had yet to realise her body didn’t work by the same rules anymore.

The next thing she knew, she was on the floor (again). Except, this time, she’d struck something hard on the way down and fresh blood was picking a cool path through her hair from a cut on her head.

She’d registered Henrik calling her name when she went down and, sure enough, he appeared in front of her.

“Will it need stitches?” The locum asked, from behind her.

Henrik frowned. “Yes but I can do them. Do you think you can get up, Roxanna?”

Roxanna nodded but what she really wanted was to stay there on the floor, away from the hovering and the clamouring and the ‘just checking’.

* * *

Back in the ITU room, Henrik began to clean the cut and, after a moment, broke the silence that had followed them through the corridors. “I caused this.”

She frowned. “What? No, Henrik, I fell because I couldn’t support my own weight.”

“You were reaching for me and I never should have left.”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t make you responsible.” She stumbled over the last syllable as the sting of antiseptic ran through her.

He shook his head. “Perhaps it might be best if you took a break from physio for a while. I can go see the locum after this and discuss it with her.”

She grabbed his wrist and pulled away from his hand. “I’ve barely gotten started. Why are you being like this?”

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“No, you’re trying to guard me like some prized possession. Don’t my wishes factor into any of this?”

“Be reasonable, Roxa-“

Every thought in her head came crashing to a halt at those words. She pushed his hand away, her tone stone cold. “Get out. I’ve had enough of being told I’m not thinking clearly.”

Henrik closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a sigh of remorse. “What about your head?”

“Send someone else to do it, just go. Please.” Her bottom slip shook. He nodded and she let him briefly squeeze her hand before he left without another word.

Her breathing was the only noise in the room, fast and shallow, an echo of their argument. She waited to feel regret bitter on her tongue but it never came. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this with Henrik, like it had with John. Henrik was supposed to be her safe place.

She was relieved at least that he didn’t try to apologise immediately, and had instead left her to lick her wounds.

By the time her breathing had slowed, Meena walked in. “Meena, please don’t be offended, but I’m really not in the mood for visitors right now.”

“Actually, I’m here to finish your stitches. I can get someone else if you want?”

“Oh. No, it’s fine.” Roxanna shuffled back into a position Meena could stitch her head from. “I didn’t know you were on Keller again.”

As she set to work, the younger woman shook her head. “I’m not, Sacha’s just borrowing me for the day. _He_ asked me to help, by the way.”

Even in helping her, Henrik had put more distance between them and she’d have been lying if she said it didn’t sting. Roxanna hesitated for a moment before she asked, “do you miss Keller? I mean, other than the trial, do you miss Neuro?”

“I’m happy to work on AAU, really.”

“Because John put you there. So, before he did, were you happy? You don’t have to lie, you’re stitching me up because I’m…” Her words trailed off. “It’s not like I can reprimand you.”

“Yeah, I was.” Meena had finished the job but stood there, not moving to take her gloves off.

Roxanna sighed, looking down at her legs as they hung over the side of the bed.

“Look, I don’t want to pry but, whatever happened-“

Her head snapped back up. “John took everything to pieces, Meena. I think Henrik and I are trying to put things back together in different ways. He had no right to put any of us here.”

“I…”

She held up a hand. “It’s alright, you don’t have to say anything. But get Henrik for me, please?”

Meena nodded, jumping into action and peeling off her gloves.

* * *

When he entered the room, she was sat on the edge of the bed with her legs tucked underneath her, watching him. He paused in the doorway and his hands clenched and unclenched by his sides.

He approached her and opened his mouth to speak but, before he could, she held a hand up.

“There’s something I want to say first, if that’s alright with you.” He nodded. “I’m sorry for…kicking you out.”

Henrik was already shaking his head. “You had every right. I can only imagine what our argument must’ve brought back.”

“Still, I don’t want to let it end on that note. We need to talk, Henrik.”

He drew a weary breath in and nodded. “I’m listening.”

It took a moment or two for the words to form in her mind and, when she spoke, her voice was slow but certain. “I feel like you’re trying to surround me with this safe little cocoon of yours and I can’t live like that, Henrik.”

He tried to hide it but she could see his eyes sadden.

Knowing she had to press on, she swallowed and said, “I understand now that you were doing it because you’re scared of losing me and I let you because I was too.” She reached out and took his hand in hers. “But I don’t need a guard dog.”

Henrik stared at their intertwined hands, swiping his thumb back and forth over her knuckles. “I see. Then what do you need?”

“For you to let go, help me recover but don’t wrap me up in cotton wool.” The corner of her mouth turned upwards. “Tell me what you’re thinking once in a while.”

“Not much then.” He looked up and gave her a fond smile, which then slipped away as he spoke again. “I’m sorry. I was so focused on keeping you with us physically that I seemed to forget there’s a person in there too.”

“All’s forgiven, just try not to do it again.” Roxanna slipped her arms around him and she rested her head against his chest. “I hate arguing with you, now more than ever.”

He threaded an absent-minded hand into her hair. “Why now?”

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t play ignorant, Henrik. You sleep in a chair next to my bed and you haven’t been this tactile with me since university.”

He drew in a breath, a sort of dread on his features – she knew getting him to talk about the two of them had been too easy at first. “Roxanna-“

“I don’t want John to take this from us again.” She fixed him with a look that spoke of the weeks she’d spent fighting an uphill battle, before and after the crash.

His eyes teared up at that. He looked away from her, free hand fidgeting by his side.

“I’m sorry, Henrik. I…” She cupped his cheek with one hand and kneeled up to draw level with him. They’d only ever kissed on the cheek and she wondered what it would feel like to actually kiss those lips. So she did.

It was tentative and gentle, and everything she could’ve hoped for. At first, Henrik stiffened but eventually he relaxed into it, as if letting out a breath he’d been holding for a long time.

When they pulled apart, their foreheads leaned together and she felt him smile a small smile. “I hope that means what I think it means,” she uttered, the breathy words warm in the space between their lips.

He chuckled. “Last time I checked, I don’t kiss just anyone like that.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Now is not the time to be cryptic, Henrik.”

He leaned back and cupped her cheek. “Roxanna, are you asking me if I love you?”

“Yes.” Her insides fluttered at the idea of saying any of it aloud.

He brought his other hand up to frame her face. “I do, I don’t have the words to tell you just how much yet. All I need is to know that you feel the same way.”

“I don’t know how this will work but I want to try. I want you.”

His sombre expression melted into a smile. “You don’t know how happy that makes me.”

“I think I have an inkling.” She followed the words up with a peck to his lips, meeting his gaze with sparkling eyes. After a few seconds, she spoke, “Henrik?”

“Yes?”

“Why _have_ you been so close physically? Not that I’m complaining…” She tried to keep her expression clear – the last thing she wanted was to discourage this newfound intimacy. She wasn’t sure she even _could_ go back to how they were before the incident.

“To be sure, Roxanna, to be sure.” There was something so ominous about that reply that created a little sinking feeling in her gut. “That and I thought the contact might comfort you in some way.”

“Well, thank you.” She placed another kiss on his cheek, which was cut short by a badly-masked yawn.

“Tired again?” She nodded reluctantly. “Take a nap. I have some things I need to finish off on Keller from when I was there earlier, but I’ll be back soon.”

She stilled. Sleep had seemed rather welcoming, until Henrik had unknowingly taken himself out of the equation.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I…can’t.” Her tone was much less upbeat than it had been only moments ago.

His brow creased. “I don’t follow.”

“I can’t sleep alone, Henrik.” She shrugged. “I didn’t want to worry you and you never left at night anyway.”

“Do you know why?”

“It’s this room. It’s like staying at the scene of my own murder.” She shivered at her own wording, even though it was technically accurate.

He turned around and, just as she was starting to get confused, he pulled the chair closer to the bed. “Then I’ll stay with you, Keller can wait.”

She mock-glared at him. “You can’t do this _every_ time.”

“No, but I can do it just this once until we can see about moving you to Keller.” From the stubborn note in his voice, she could tell she wasn’t going to win. Part of her didn’t really want to if it meant Henrik was by her side.


	5. Chapter 5

Just over a week into her stay on Keller, Serena came to visit. So many people had come to see her by that point that, when she was drifting off, she could almost imagine the doors of her room revolving.

“I’m not here to spy on you,” she said, holding her hands up in defence as she took a seat beside the bed. “But I have to admit, I am a little jealous.”

Roxanna laughed. “Of what? The hospital bed or the cocktail of medication I’m on?”

“You know what I mean.” She nodded towards the vase of flowers on Roxanna’s bedside table. “Everyone and their grandma’s come to visit. You must be drowning in Get Well Soon cards, where are they all?”

She smirked. “Henrik took them home for me – back to mine, I mean. The room was getting a little too crowded for his tastes.”

“And the flowers?”

“Dom and Lofty brought them. I said we should keep them to brighten the place up a bit, what with the two of us spending so much time in here.”

“Speaking of, how are things between the two of you? It must be different with Gaskell gone.”

She sighed, looking down at her hands. “We’re muddling through. I’m not sure either of us knows what we’re supposed to do.”

Serena shook her head. “Give yourselves some credit, you must be doing something right – some of the F1s think you’re a couple.”

Roxanna stopped and bit her lip.

The other woman’s eyes lit up. “Ah, so there _is_ some truth to the rumours. How long? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“The night before I was moved to Keller. We…had a disagreement.” Roxanna shrugged. “Like I said, we’re still trying to find our footing.”

“Well, if there’s anything I can do for either of you, just let me know.”

“There is one thing.” Serena nodded for her to continue. “How attached are you to Doctor Chowdhury?”

“She’s not _bad_ , why?”

Roxanna hesitated for a beat before she asked, “How would you feel about sending her back up here to Keller? Permanently, I mean.”

“I suppose I can spare her, if she’s happy to go. What’s this about?” Serena frowned a little.

“She might not have made the best decisions so far, but I think she should be able to experience Neuro as it should be. Without the trial.” Roxanna met her eyes, trying to convey what she couldn’t quite bring herself to say – that it was more about John than the trial, as it seemed to be with everything now.

“I’ll see what I can do. I’m not making any promises, though.”

She let out a breath. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. Now, change of topic - tell me, is Henrik Hanssen a cuddler?”

* * *

 

“Henrik, you really don’t need to. I can call someone to help me.” She grabbed the plastic cutlery off the tray and pulled it to her.

“Just give me the cutlery, Roxanna.” He held out an open palm, giving her a look of fond exasperation. He was sat on the side of her bed, facing her with the tray containing her lunch sat on top of her crossed legs. “Please. This must be the tenth time we’ve had this conversation.”

She sighed and dropped the knife and fork on the tray.

Mirth shone in his eyes as he picked them up. “Thank you.” He pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

She hummed, leaning into the touch. One of the perks of Henrik’s protective nature was the dash of physical affection that now came with it. “I just don’t want you to spend all your lunch hour cooped up in here with me.”

“I’m fine, Roxanna. I-” A nurse poked her head into the room, a box in her hands. Henrik paused in the middle of cutting up some chicken. “What is it?”

“I have a package for you, Mister Hanssen.” She held the cardboard box up.

He put the knife and fork down and beckoned with one hand. “Who from?”

She looked at the label and frowned. “It’s from you, Miss MacMillan.”

Roxanna stared at the box as the nurse put it on the bed.

“Thank you,” Henrik called after her when she left, most likely sensing the conversation that box brought with it.

“Roxanna?” Henrik moved the tray to the table at the end of the bed then returned his attention to her, trying to catch her eye.

“I forgot I’d sent that.” She pulled the box into her lap and cracked the lid off. She lifted some of the objects from the box and Henrik followed each item as she laid it on the bed. “I was in a completely different mindset.” She held out an envelope with his name on it.

Henrik took it, sliding the letter out delicately. He was silent as he scanned it. “I…”

“This is for you as well.” An intricate brown box rested in her hands. “It was supposed to be one last puzzle.”

Henrik flinched at the words but he took the box with gentle hands regardless. “It’s beautiful. Although I’d much rather have you here in its place.”

Heat prickled in her cheeks. “Go ahead, open it.”

His gaze flickered up to her then back to the box. He shifted its pieces until the tiny key came rolling out into his palm. It wasn’t long before he uncovered the keyhole and the lid popped open with a click.

He lifted the photo out of the box. “We really did lose sight of who we were, didn’t we?” His thumb traced over the three of them.

“I wanted you to remember, if anything happened. To see how far we’d strayed.”

“But have we really?” Henrik placed the photo down on the bed. “I’m starting to wonder if John ever actually told us the truth. Had we known, things could’ve been so different.”

Roxanna sighed. She didn’t have the heart to tell him just how different seeing through John’s manipulations could’ve made their future. “We’ll never know. I suspect we’ll still be finding things to wonder about months after the investigation into the trial’s finished. What’s happening with that, anyway?”

Henrik opened his mouth then closed it again, swallowing. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“What did I say about trying to protect me unnecessarily?”

He nodded, point clearly taken. “They’ve come to a halt for now, I think.”

Her brow creased. “Why? The evidence is all there, they have their statements. And John.”

“That’s precisely the problem, I think.” Henrik met her gaze when he spoke but it seemed forced, as if it pained him to tell her. “He’s not in their custody any longer.”

She suddenly felt very exposed sat in a hospital bed in just her pyjamas. “Tell me you don’t mean he escaped.”

“I’m afraid so, as of yesterday morning.” He took her hand in his and she was grateful for his strong grasp, as it kept her mind from reeling even if only for the moment. “He’s not coming back here, Roxanna.”

Her head snapped up. “And you know that how?”

“Coming back to ‘finish the job’ doesn’t serve John’s agenda. He’s trying to hold on to his life’s work. Even with you gone, there’s still far too much evidence against him for him to return.”

It made sense. She was no longer the whistleblower, there was nothing left for him to silence. And it was that, and not the complete conviction in his voice, that made the tension leave her muscles. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Thank you.” He gave her a relieved smile and then peeked at his watch. “Now, I think I have just enough time left in my lunch break to make sure you eat something.”

* * *

As much as Henrik had seemed confident when he reassured her about John, he broke their routine to sleep in the chair beside her bed instead of going home. She wasn’t complaining – having him within arms’ reach was comforting. And, although she found it easier to sleep now she was on Keller, his presence was still reassuring.

She was close to drifting off when she heard him groan. Trying to shake off the weight of her drowsiness, she opened her eyes and propped herself up on her arm. He was tossing and turning – as much as you can in a chair – with tense shoulders and a fist clenched around the blanket they’d given him.

At first, she thought of leaving him to get his rest. There was a good chance he wouldn’t even remember what he’d dreamt about in the morning. Then he muttered her name in that aching tone he’d used so much recently.

Still, he needed his sleep.

“I’m so sorry, Roxanna…” It felt odd for him to be apologising to her. She was right next to him yet, from the way he spoke those words, she knew they weren’t addressed to the Roxanna he’d kissed goodnight not long ago. In fact, it didn’t sound like that Roxanna would be wishing him sweet dreams ever again. She just couldn’t let whatever was going on in there play out.

“Henrik,” she whispered. When he didn’t reply, she reached out tentatively to touch his arm and spoke louder. “Henrik.”

He startled awake, looking this way and that before his gaze settled on her and he sat back into the chair.

“You were having a nightmare,” she explained. Her hand moved along to hold his and he squeezed it tight.

He swallowed to the sound of a dry mouth. “Ah. Did I wake you?”

“Not really, I was just dropping off.”

A flicker of guilt crossed his face. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s not like I’m short on sleep anymore.” She smirked faintly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No-” Henrik cut himself off, pausing as if to reset himself. “Yes. Perhaps later, but not right now. Thank you for the offer, though.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly.

Her eyes lit up. “I thought it was my turn.”

“I wasn’t aware we _had_ turns.” Henrik grinned. “I’ll just have to wait until my turn to hold your hand again,” he said, beginning to pull his hand away.

“Ah, no.” She chased him down and intertwined their fingers again, which only seemed to amuse him more. “If you’re going to play it that way, then I have a request. As part of my turn, of course.”

“What is it?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “Join me?” She let go of his hand and shuffled forwards, patting the space behind her.

A gentle smile bloomed on his face. “Of course.”

He settled behind her but, before he could fold his legs out either side of her, she rested her head in his lap. She felt him chuckle. “Oh, Roxanna.”

She gave him a cheeky smile. “It was fun when we were in university.”

He threaded his hands into her hair, combing through it with languid movements. “I didn’t think it’d be quite this easy to go back to. It, this, still pops into my head in the middle of the day and surprises me all over again.”

She rested her hands on her stomach and let her eyes fall shut. “I know what you mean. I feel like I should be asking permission from someone, to be like this with you. I don’t even know what to call you.”

“Presumably my name.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Well, obviously but I meant as a term of endearment. Or even just to other people. Boyfriend seems too juvenile, lover’s too revealing…”

“How about partner in crime?”

“Yes, Henrik Hanssen, known criminal. _So_ believable.”

“I’ll have you know I broke into a library once.”

That made her laugh. “Excuse you, _I_ broke into that library. And that was decades ago, I broke into a lab a few _weeks_ ago so I think I win.”

“Of course.” His tone sobered slightly at the reminder of her ordeal. “How does just ‘partner’ sound? And darling, in private.”

She paused, mulling it over. “I’d need to hear it first.”

“Roxanna, darling…”

She closed her eyes and, for a second, she could imagine him speaking those same words in a different bed in a different time and place. Opening them again, she looked up at him. “I like it.”

He smiled, sitting back against the pillows.

A few seconds passed before she spoke again. “Henrik, are you sure you’re okay with all this?” She gestured up at his fingers tangled in her hair. “I know it’s a lot, it wasn’t long ago that we were just friends.”

He shook his head. “Roxanna, I love you, but I wouldn’t let you do it if I was uncomfortable.”

She froze, hand stuck in mid-air, and blinked.

Henrik’s movements stopped and he peered over at her. “What’s wrong?”

She turned round, pushed herself up on her hands and searched his confused features. Then she claimed his lips in a messy kiss. In her head, they’d just broken into that library together and they had a whole world ahead of them but the only thing that mattered right then was that Henrik loved her.

“Roxanna?” he asked when they separated, more than a little breathless.

Her breathing mirrored his as she said, “It’s just the first time I’ve heard you say it so casually, that’s all.”

He framed her face with both of his hands. “Roxanna MacMillan, I love you more than anything else in the world.”

“And I love you.” She smiled as she shuffled back into her previous position. “It’s things like this that remind me just how lucky we’ve been.”

He grazed a hand over her cheek. “Yes, well, you know I don’t believe in luck. But I’m glad you’re still here, regardless of the reason for that.”


	6. Chapter 6

She was at the other side of the physio room to Henrik when she asked him, “Apparently, there’s a Halloween party in Albie’s tonight. Are you going?”

“No, actually.”

“Don’t hold back just because of me.” They’d had this conversation a billion times over, yet she still felt the need to repeat it.

He gave her a fond smile and shook his head. “I’ve seen enough of them and Halloween isn’t celebrated much in Sweden anyway. Come on, _you_ wanted to get some time in the physio room during my break.”

She rolled her eyes but pushed herself into standing position again and began to make her way across the room. The trick, she’d decided, was to try and forget that she could have covered this distance easily not long ago, tell herself walking was a feat in itself. It wasn’t a trick she was good at.

Still, Henrik’s praise made it a little better. “Well done.” He caught her at the other side, pulling her close. To keep eye contact with him at that height, she had to tilt her head upwards and then his lips were just _there_. A few seconds of heated eye contact passed before they met in the middle, one little peck and then another giving way to something deeper.

It would’ve been more so, had the door not opened. Dom stood in the doorway and stared at them both like a deer in headlights.

Roxanna snapped out of it and pulled as far back from Henrik as she could without letting go – yet another downside of her situation.

In a dazed voice, Dom said, “Mister Collins wants to talk to you. No need to rush, I just thought I’d come and let you know.”

Henrik nodded slowly. “Thank you, Mister Copeland.”

“Right, I’ll… I’ll leave you to it.” He blinked, avoiding their eyes, and then left and closed the door behind him.

Roxanna pursed her lips, a laugh bubbling up inside her. “I think we might’ve scarred him for life, Henrik.”

“Maybe, but not enough to stop him sharing it with Nurse Chiltern. By the time I come into work tomorrow, the whole hospital will know we’re together.” Henrik was still staring at the door with a mildly horrified expression.

When Roxanna started giggling, his head snapped down to look at her. “What?”

“I think they already know, Henrik. Besides, I don’t care.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and searched his features. “Do you?”

“No, I suppose I don’t.” He raised his eyebrows, as if he’d surprised even himself. “Now, where were we?”

“You were congratulating me for my stellar progress.”

“Ah, yes. Keep going like this and you’ll soon be on crutches.” He smiled, obviously not realising he was feeding the desperate side of her that wanted out _now_.

“Then I can go home?”

“I’m not your doctor, Roxanna.” When her face fell, he raised a hand to cup her cheek and added, “But I’m sure it won’t be long.”

She leaned into his hand and sighed. “I hope so.”

* * *

 

As she spotted Henrik through the door window, Roxanna covered the contents of the tray with the piece of kitchen roll again and sat back just as he entered.

“What are you smirking about?” Henrik asked, stood in the doorway. Behind him, the ward was starting to wind down for the night shift. His being here meant that his shift had finished and many of his colleagues would be going to Albie’s for drinks.

Roxanna’s grin only widened and she beckoned him closer with one hand. “Come here…”

Henrik frowned, quickening his pace to stand in front of her. “Is something wrong? Why wasn’t I informed?”

She laid a finger over his lips, biting her own as her gaze flickered over to the tray at the end of the bed that was covered in kitchen roll. “Trick or treat?”

“Treat, of course.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” She leaned up and pressed her lips to his, sliding one hand into his hair. It didn’t take him long to respond and wrap his arms around her.

She pulled away slowly and a little reluctantly. Kissing Henrik was still something fairly new and, each time, she found herself trying to memorise every detail in case it never happened again. Then she’d have a perfect imprint of his thumb sweeping across her cheekbone, or the surprised quirk of his lips when she sprung the kiss on him.

“Was that the treat?” he asked.

She laughed a little. “No, I just wanted to kiss you. I felt bad for making you worry.”

“Then, may I ask, what is my treat?”

She blinked, his words a reminder that there was a point to this other than kissing him. She gestured for him to sit beside her on the bed and carefully lifted the tray she’d covered earlier into her lap. “I know you said you weren’t skipping Albie’s because of me, but I still wanted to do something tonight so… I made us silver needle tea.”

“Roxanna!” She knew that tone, only it was usually accompanied with the words, ‘what am I going to do with you?’

She held up her hands in mock surrender. “With Dom’s help! He thought it was a sweet idea so he made the tea. And smuggled the biscuits out of the staff room.” Pulling the kitchen roll cover off to reveal two cups of tea and a plate of biscuits, she looked up at his face again to see his reaction.

His expression softened. “It looks wonderful, darling.”

The pet name brought out a little smile in her. “I wanted to find something Swedish, perhaps, but all I could get at short notice was digestives and custard creams. Probably for the best, I’d have butchered the pronunciations anyway.”

“Well, we can easily rectify that, can’t we?” At her look of confusion, he went on, “I could teach you.”

“Really?”

Henrik opened his mouth, only to be interrupted as the door opened and an F1 poked their head in to ask him about a patient of his. Roxanna’s focus drifted and she began to watch people pass over the F1’s shoulder. She hadn’t been paying much attention until a man wearing a grey hoodie lifted his head and happened to look her way.

He turned away in a flash and hurried off down the corridor when he caught her eye. But there was no mistaking John Gaskell’s face, the power behind his gaze. Her breath caught and her hand tightened into a fist, screwing up the covers.

It could’ve been anyone, really. Couldn’t it? Even if she wasn’t actively thinking about him then, maybe her brain was looking at everything with Gaskell-coloured glasses. 

“Something wrong?” Homing in on Henrik’s voice, she realised they were now alone and he was taking one of the cups from the tray. No F1, no imaginary John Gaskell. And how ridiculous would she look, telling him what she thought she’d seen?

“No, just thought I saw…” She let the covers go and wrapped her hands around the remaining cup to still their shaking, looking down into the depths of the trembling liquid. “Nothing, just the night playing tricks on me.”

“If you say so.” He sat back in his seat, a trace of concern on his features. “I do apologise, by the way, this isn’t exactly how I’d envisioned our first date.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re practically spoiling me.” She said the next part with a mouthful of chocolate digestive, ignoring Henrik’s slight cringe. “I’ve spent the past few weeks on hospital food, this must be the most sugar I’ve had in ages.”

“In that case, if you’re bouncing off the walls after this, I won’t be sticking around for damage control.”

She laughed, shaking her head. When her laughter died down, she said, “Were you serious about teaching me Swedish?”

“I can’t see the harm in trying. Though I’m not sure how good a teacher I’ll make. If that’s something you want, of course.”

She took a sip of tea as she thought on it. “It is, if only because it means I get to hear you speak it at a time other than when you think I’m still asleep.”

Henrik’s cheeks coloured and he looked down. “Ah.”

“It’s endearing, Henrik.” She set her cup aside and placed a hand over his.

He met her eyes and a smile spread across his face. Putting his cup beside hers, he took both her hands in his and brought them to his lips. “Then I shall endeavour to do it more often.”


	7. Chapter 7

“It’s gone, completely.” Roxanna shrugged and took another bite of toast.

“I know you know this one, Roxanna. Try again.” The two of them were sat on her bed with a plate of toast, an English-to-Swedish textbook and Henrik’s phone open on the Duolingo app between them.

“Nej.” She smirked when he frowned at her. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. Say it again, this time more slowly.”

He rolled his eyes. “Hon äter inte kyckling.”

“She eats chicken?” When he shook his head, she bit her lip. “Wait, she _doesn’t_ eat chicken?”

“Well done, you got there in the end,” he said, typing the answer into his phone.

She let out a dry chuckle. “The amount of time that took me is embarrassing, actually. It was such an easy sentence too…”

“You’ve only been learning for a few days and, to be fair to you, I haven’t slowed down the speed I talk at that much. Stop being so hard on yourself.” He reached out and squeezed her hand.

“Said the pot to the kettle.”

“Cheeky.” He shook his head. “Han dricker kaffe?”

“He drinks coffee.”

He nodded. “Ja. What about this: jag är en man och du är en kvinna?”

“I am a man and you are a woman.”

“Excellent, and you’re also at the end of that chapter. I think that’s enough for today.” He closed the textbook and rested his phone on top of it.

“I don’t have anywhere to be, you know,” she teased.

“I know but it’ll be on my head if I tire you out. You can do that all on your own, I’m not assisting.” He stood up with a lingering smirk on his lips, putting the book and phone back in his bag. “And I have a shift starting soon.”

“Spoilsport.” She huffed, shuffling back to sit against the pillows. “Pass me the newspaper, please.”

He grabbed the newspaper from the table then paused. “Only if you can ask in Swedish.”

“Tidning, snälla.” She rolled her eyes as he handed it to her. “Tack,” she said, tone sickly sweet.

“See? You’re doing better than you think.” He placed a kiss on her forehead – she wasn’t sure whether it was designed to encourage her or wind her up more. However, that all became secondary in her mind when she read the headline of the first article.

“Roxanna?” Henrik probed when she didn’t reply. He stood again and moved behind her to read over her shoulder. “Ah, that.”

“You’ve read it then?” she asked, still fixated on the words.

“Before you woke up, yes. Don’t pay attention to it, they can’t see past John’s grand exterior.” She felt him briefly put what was supposed to be a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She looked up at him. “Are there seriously people who think this? That what he did was excusable – right, even?”

Henrik nodded. “In every scandal, there is someone who plays devil’s advocate. You and I know they’re wrong and that’s what matters.”

“It makes me sick that they can just…turn it into a completely different story…” She shook her head. She imagined meeting one of these people, them undoing all the hard work that it had taken to get everyone to see the truth in few sensationalised paragraphs. They’d make out that she’d imagined all that hurt and she didn’t know whether she could survive that.

“Roxanna, as much as I wish I could, no one can change what happened. No journalist can change the path our… the path John has chosen.” His features had a melancholy look about them as he said that. “Block them out.”

She nodded absently. She wanted to tell him that those words weren’t good enough, didn’t fix it. But she kept trying to put it a better way, one that would make more sense and wouldn’t just lead to a shrug and him asking what she wanted him to say. Before she knew it, he was kissing her goodbye and leaving her to sit there, the newspaper in her hands and the memory of the imaginary John Gaskell from Halloween playing in her head.

* * *

 

“I still can’t believe you asked for me to be transferred back to Keller.” Meena was wheeling her back to her room after a routine scan. She’d mentioned it at least twice on the way there and back, each time with the same awed tone.

Roxanna smiled. It was good to know she still wielded some power amongst the staff, even bed-ridden. “I thought your place was here. Was I wrong?” She looked up at the younger doctor.

“No, it was just a surprise. I didn’t know that’s where you were headed.”

“Well, I’d like to say I’m full of surprises but…” She gestured to her legs. “You’ll have to wait a few months. The only thing I’m full of right now is pain medication and even that’s not anything interesting.”

“Oh my god.”

At the abrupt stop of her wheelchair, Roxanna looked up. Over the other side of the room, a familiar figure was talking to some of the other staff from _her_ wheelchair.

“Is that Mara?” She squinted at the woman. “Meena, take me closer.”

Speechless, the younger woman obeyed. Up close, there was no doubt. That face took her back to a long time ago, when her biggest worry about John was whether he was treating her as an equal partner in the trial – as opposed to the little seed that had been sitting at the back of her brain since that morning, the knowledge that people believed her murder was justifiable and there was nothing she could do about that.

She looked on as Mara stood up and the people around her watched with wide eyes and open mouths.

“How is she still walking? Most of the other trial patients are…” Meena trailed off.

“Dead. And Jac would be if we hadn’t operated.” Roxanna shook her head.

“What is it?”

“I’m just thinking back to all the risks we took, even with Mara. It makes me feel sick.”

Meena peered down at her. “Actually sick or just emotionally? Because we’ve done actually sick before and it didn’t turn out well.”

“I’m not about to pass out, Meena. Although, I would like to get moving before the John Gaskell Fan Club starts up, if you don’t mind.” She surprised herself with how bitter that last sentence sounded.

“Sure, let’s go.”

She felt herself relax as they got further away from Mara and her miraculous recovery – as proud as she was of her, she couldn’t let go of how much that miracle had cost.

“I’m sorry, Sir, you can’t be in here.”

She looked up when Meena spoke and saw a man sat in Henrik’s chair (she tried not to think too deeply about referring to it as such) and he was most certainly not Henrik. He was much smaller and much more plump, and he definitely had a lot less hair.

“I have a pass. I’m Alan Wilson, I’m a reporter.” He held up the press pass at his hip that had previously been hiding under his trench coat.

Meena pushed the wheelchair further into the room and stepped out from behind it, shaking her head. “This is a private room for a reason, Mister Wilson. I’d like you to leave.”

He held up his hands as if to calm her down. “I just want a few words on John Gaskell for an article I’m writing on his achievements.”

Roxanna glared at him as Meena helped her back onto the bed. “Try this: John Gaskell’s greatest achievement was trying to murder one of his closest friends.”

“With all due respect, I want the truth. That’s only speculation.” The patronising look in his eyes only riled her more.

“That _is_ the truth. Why on earth would I lie?”

The man leaned in closer, still sat in _Henrik’s chair_. “How do we know he caused your brain damage? Might’ve been that car crash.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Roxanna saw Meena flinch. Roxanna turned away from him and tried to busy herself with tidying up the table at the end of her bed.

“No, he was a smart man, he wouldn’t have-“

Something inside her snapped and she turned round to face him, the tissue she’d been holding crushed in her fist. He shrunk back.

“He was out of control! I almost _died!_ ”

His eyes went wide and she wondered if he was just now realising how insensitive he was being. For a second, she thought it might’ve been easier if she had some convenient scar to show him rather than shouting so forcefully her voice turned hoarse. “I-”

“I suggest you listen to her and get out, before she throws the whole jug and ruins that hideous tie of yours.” Roxanna whipped her head round to find Jac standing in the doorway, one hand on her hip.

The reporter froze up, blinking at her.

“ _Out_ ,” she spat.

That seemed to startle some sense into him and he rose out of the chair and almost scrambled past Jac and out of the room.

When he was gone, Roxanna flopped back onto the bed and let out a breath. She nodded to Meena. “It’s alright, Meena, you can go now.”

The younger woman seemed relieved and slipped away, leaving her and Jac alone.

“Thank you, Jac.”

“Oh, that? I eat people like him for breakfast.” Jac smirked as Roxanna laughed. “How’ve you been holding up?”

“As well as can be expected. Henrik’s been a big help.” It lifted her mood a little to think of him. “How’s the implant?”

A dark look crossed the other surgeon’s face. “Fine, for now, but I still don’t trust it. I don’t trust anything made by John Gaskell.”

Roxanna bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Jac, I really am. As soon as I’m back at work-”

“Stop it – if I blamed you, I wouldn’t be visiting. Speaking of visiting, that reminds me.” Jac lifted up her other hand which held two books. “These are from Sacha. He was busy but, with us living together now, I offered to be his courier.”

Roxanna looked down at them as Jac placed them on the table and frowned. “Wait, you’re living together?”

Jac nodded. “I’m helping out a friend. A friend who spends too long in the bathroom, but a friend nonetheless.”

The older woman smiled. “That’s nice, Jac.”

Jac wrinkled her nose. “Now I’m going to have to swear you to secrecy.”

“My lips are sealed. No one shall ever know Jac Naylor was _nice_.” Roxanna mimed zipping up her lips and throwing away the key.

“Perfect. I need to be at peak heartlessness if we’re all being hounded by the press.”

“And that’s something you’re worried about?”

“No, I just want to be prepared.” Jac stopped, fixing her with a firm gaze. “He experimented with _people_. You don’t get to brush that off and pretend he did us all a service.”

Roxanna nodded slowly, putting the cup back on the table

Jac’s pager bleeped and she glanced at it. “I’m being summoned back to Darwin. If he bothers you again, flip the table and that should scare him off.”

* * *

 

She’d asked Henrik to take her outside for some fresh air, thinking an escape from the same four walls would clear her head. Except he’d been called away and, Henrik being Henrik, he went to help despite not being on shift. She’d been tucked away in a corner of Keller for the past twenty minutes, sat in her wheelchair, and it was started to grate on her.

Checking that no one was looking, she started to wheel down the corridor. If she couldn’t experience the real thing just yet, she could at least live vicariously by watching people through the window.

When she was far enough away that the noises of Keller blended into one, muffled by distance, she abandoned the wheelchair and covered the remaining distance on foot. It was a shaky start, her legs protesting after having had physio earlier. But, after that, it wasn’t much different – except it was much more dangerous and Henrik would kill her when he found out.

At that point, she was tired enough of feeling like that that she was ready to endure his fussing and kiss it better afterwards.

She used the rail to lower herself to the ground and took an undignified shuffle down the stairs that made her feel more like a five-year-old than a stir-crazy adult. At the other side, she pulled herself back up and stared down into the car park. She noted that it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it did that first night.

Only a few seconds had passed when she heard shuffling a flight of stairs down from her. She glanced over her shoulder and caught a flash of grey before it disappeared back behind the cover of the stairs with another shuffle. She watched the spot for a few more seconds with her stomach churning before she looked back out the window.

But she just couldn’t settle down. It felt like someone was watching her and she realised it was a feeling she’d been carrying on and off since Halloween – the sensation of never quite being alone in a room when there was no one else around.

Her suspicions were confirmed when the stairwell’s silence was burst by the blunt, hard sounds someone coming upstairs. She whipped round to look and there he was.

She wasn’t imagining it this time.

She wasn’t.

Why couldn’t she have been imagining it?

“Rox.” John nodded to her from underneath his hood, slowing down as he reached the landing she was stood on. It was so casual, like he was just greeting her on a regular day at work.

As he got closer, she inched back into the corner.

“I just want to talk.” He took slow steps towards her. “I’m sorry that I had to do what I did, I’m glad you’re alright.”

She pressed herself further back against the rail. Her shoulders were tense, breath shuddering in and out of her.

At her lack of reply, he stepped closer and placed a hand on her arm. “It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

She lifted her other hand to push him away, but he mistook the jarred movement and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. It was the coldest hug she’d ever experienced and all she could think about was his hand on her face when he’d told her she would be remembered.

She felt as if her shaking bones disconnect - she couldn’t stand there any longer. She pushed off the rail and leaned her entire body weight against him, stomach dropping as they began to fall.

He cushioned her fall and she rolled off of him. John clutched his head where it had struck the bottom step and groaned. She didn’t stick around to see him recover and scrambled back up the steps and into Keller, half walking and half crawling.

* * *

“Oh, where _is_ she?” That was Henrik’s voice, out on the ward. She felt terrible for thinking it but she didn’t trust anyone, perhaps not even him, to protect her from John so she’d shut herself in the office. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to leave even if she wanted to. She’d used the last of her energy to drag her desk in front of the door and hide behind Henrik’s.

“I’ve checked the stairs.” Meena announced, her tone frantic.

“Well?” That was Henrik again, so sharp he was almost cutting her off.

“She’s not there but…” She heard a shaky breath in. “Mister Hanssen, I found blood on the stairs.”

She rubbed her hands along her arms; it was cold sat on the office floor in just her pyjamas. Her toes felt like ice. She tried to block out the sounds of their search, namely the increasingly distressed sound of Henrik’s voice. It only made her feel worse to hear all the fuss she was causing.

Then the office door clicked and jolted as it hit her blockade, left just ajar. She held her breath.

“Go get Mister Hanssen, tell him I think she’s in the office,” Sacha said. She heard footsteps as Meena went off to find Henrik. “Roxanna?” He paused to give her chance to answer but she didn’t – how could she tell her closest friends she didn’t trust them to keep her alive? “I don’t know why you’re in there but everything’ll be fine. It’s only me out here and Henrik’ll be here in a minute, just sit tight.”

She wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad news.

A few moments later, there were footsteps and Sacha spoke again, “Henrik.”

“Why are we stood out here?” She could hear the frown in his voice.

“The door’s blocked.” The door jolted again and she felt her heart jolt in time with it. “See? She’s shut herself in and I’m not sure why.”

Henrik’s voice was louder this time, but somehow gentler. “Roxanna? Can you let us in?” When she didn’t answer, he tried the door.

“Stop! Stop doing that.” She wanted the door to stay closed, then she could just hide instead of having to explain it all.

“Stop doing what?” Henrik asked.

“I think she means the door.” She heard Henrik release the door handle on the other side. “Okay, we won’t touch the door. Is it okay if we just talk?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

“Are you hurt?” Henrik asked.

In any other situation, she might have chuckled fondly at his ever-present protectiveness. She didn’t have it in her now. “Not physically.”

“Can you tell us what happened?” Sacha said.

“I… I…”

“That’s fine. How about what you’re hiding from?”

She shook her head vehemently even though they couldn’t see her. “I can’t.”

“Why ever not?” Henrik interrupted.

She winced. “I... I don’t want to go there, I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

She heard Sacha let out a breath. “You won’t, believe me.”

“We will listen, Roxanna. I remember what happened last time I didn’t.” Henrik’s words felt closer, more urgent, as if he was pressed up against the door. She knew he wanted inside and part of her, a small part overpowered by more pressing matters, wanted him there so she could hide in his shirt and bury her thoughts in Cedarwood.

After a moment of hesitation, she said, “It was John. He’s here and I don’t trust anyone to keep me safe.” Her words sounded hollow and shaky.

There was shuffling outside the door and she heard Sacha speaking much further away this time.

“Focus on my voice, Roxanna.”

She tried to take a deep breath. “I’m…trying.”

“I know, darling, I know.” He talked as he sometimes did when they were alone, words low and warm.

Moments later, Sacha returned and told her, “Okay, security’s sweeping the building. The others are checking all over Keller as well. If he’s here, we’ll find him and we’ll go from there.”

“He hit his head,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“I pushed him away, he fell and hit his head on the bottom step.” She remembered it clearly, the flash of red creeping into his hair that she’d seen before she escaped.

“He wasn’t there when we were looking for you, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, as her breathing eased a little. “I’ve caused chaos.”

“Roxanna…” Henrik sighed.

“It’s no problem at all,” Sacha added.

She sniffed. “Thank you, Sacha.”

“No need to thank me, it’s what friends do.”

The corner of her mouth quirked upwards for a moment. Friends. That word had always meant John and Henrik - and David, but he’d quickly become more than that. After the incident, she’d thought all she had left was Henrik (not that he wasn’t enough). Now, it felt good to find that somewhere else.

After another hushed conversation outside the door between Sacha and someone else, he said, “that was Dom – he’s not on Keller. Do you want to stay in there a bit longer or do you feel comfortable enough to open the door?”

If she didn’t say yes then, she wasn’t sure if she would when they told her he wasn’t on the next floor, or the next. “I guess you can come in, but you’ll have to move the door. I’m too tired.”

The door began to scrape open then came to a stop. “Roxanna, what’s blocking the door?” Henrik asked.

“My desk. I didn’t use yours, I didn’t want to disturb it.”

She heard him try to pass off a little laugh as clearing his throat.

When he finally got the door open wide enough and pushed the desk off to the side, he walked around the side of his desk. “There you are…” He knelt down in front of her.

“Henrik…” She met his concerned gaze with her tired one.

“I’ve got you.” Henrik reached for her as she moved towards him and they met halfway, him pulling her against him as she buried her face in his shoulder and gripped his clothes with freezing fingers.

There were words she wanted to get out but it was far less exhausting to stay silent.

“It’s alright, you’ll be safe with me. Try and believe it if you can.” Henrik rested his chin on top of her head. “Thank you, Sacha. I can take it from here.”

They stayed there for a while as he ran his hand through her hair. Some time later, he asked, “shall we go back to your room?” She nodded, pulling back a little. “Alright, hold onto me.”

He helped her to stand – a feat she was surprised she was still capable of – and they started the trek back through Keller. It seemed fine until they reached the office door and she caught sight of all the people looking at her. It wasn’t that they were staring intently, or at least the staff weren’t, it was just that they knew she’d been hiding in her own office with a desk in front of the door. She saw nothing but sympathy in their eyes but she had to look away. She spent the rest of the trip looking at her reddened toes and let Henrik guide her back to her room.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered when they got there, looking up to meet Henrik’s gaze as he placed a hand on the door.

“Shh, none of this is your fault.” He shook his head, the arm around her squeezing tighter. “Ingen. None.”

When he’d helped her back into bed, she tugged on his hand as a wordless signal for him to join her. This time, he obeyed wordlessly, stretching his legs out either side of her. She settled back against his chest and let his arms encase her.

“You’re safe with me now, you can let go,” he said, rubbing a hand over her back.

“I don’t know if I can. It’s too much.” She screwed her eyes shut and shook her head. “It’s too big for it to make any sense.”

“It doesn’t have to make sense. I’ll listen no matter what it is.”

“I’m scared, Henrik. I’m terrified. I don’t know what to do about this _thing_ I keep feeling. I just made a show in front of everyone but I couldn’t stop thinking about how scared I was that nothing could stop him getting to me.” She sounded so much younger to her ears, the line between her and her 1980s self growing thinner.

“You have every right to feel fear, Roxanna. Nobody will think any less of you for today, I promise.”

She glanced up at him and her eyes felt raw from crying. “I saw all of them looking at me, I must’ve looked like such a _child_ hiding in my own office.”

When he sighed, she thought his patience with her had run out. Henrik had his own problems and didn’t need hers. Until he whispered, “I wish I could take this away from you.”

“It feels like it’s always been here. Like I’m falling and…”

His arm tightened around her, stopping her mid-sentence. “I won’t let anything happen to you, not this time.”

“What if you don’t get a choice? I’ve been seeing him Henrik, I was worried, if he can do that…”

Henrik tensed under her. “You saw him before? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how to. I kept thinking of the words but they never left my mouth.” She felt her cheeks heat with shame at admitting it.

Henrik didn’t seem to be bothered by that and he spoke with determination in his voice. “From now on, I want you to just tell me to stay if you’re the slightest bit upset. You don’t have to know how to explain it but, that way, I’m there with you. Can you do that for me?”

“I can try.”

He relaxed a little at that. “Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m tired, Henrik.” Her words dragged as the day weighed down her limbs.

“Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake.”

She slipped away, drained, with the thought that John might still be somewhere in the hospital living at the back of her mind.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning, Roxanna felt like she’d been hit by a car and the aptness wasn’t lost on her. Her head was pounding, her limbs felt heavy. Her physio session had been cancelled and the staff were relaying all their messages through Henrik. She was glad to be left alone if it meant she didn’t have to revisit last night but she hated every reminder of all the space she took up.

She was sat by the window, her dressing gown drawn around her, when a brown paper bag dropped into her lap. As it hit her knees, she looked up to see where it had come from and found Henrik smiling down at her.

“I’m back – sorry, there was a queue at Pulses.” He leaned against the windowsill beside her.

“You’re here now.” She unrolled the top of the bag and peered inside. She pulled out a sandwich – something so reliably Henrik, to pick the healthiest thing on offer. Then she realised the bag still had something inside it and, with the other hand, reached inside and closed her fingers around the sugariest donut she’d set eyes on since before the incident. Her gaze flickered up to meet his. “Henrik?”

“Yesterday was difficult and you missed breakfast this morning. I thought you deserved a treat.”

She gave him a tired grin. “Thank you.”

As she glanced down at the donut, he added, “I do have one condition.” She looked up again. “Eat the sandwich first.”

She didn’t have the strength to argue so she just rolled her eyes, dropped the donut back into the bag and licked her fingers.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked as she bit into the sandwich.

She chewed slowly as she thought, then swallowed the bite. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Do you need me around today?”

She shook her head. Perhaps her mind wasn’t completely at peace, but at least she didn’t fear for her immediate safety anymore. “I’ll manage. Your patients need you more than I do.”

He sighed. “If you say so. Promise me you’ll call if anything changes?”

“I swear on this very sugary donut.”

He smiled at that and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “I’ll see you later.”

When he seemed hesitant, she jerked her head towards the door. “Go, Henrik. Just make sure you come back.”

“I will.” He gave her another kiss, this time on the top of her head, and then turned to walk out the door. As she watched him go, she noticed Essie stood in the doorway and he nodded to her in greeting as he passed.

Essie nodded back and, when he was gone, faced Roxanna. Her features were a bittersweet sort of happy. “You two are sweet. It’s good that you have each other after…”

“You _can_ say his name, Essie. He’s the reason for the new security procedures after all.”

Essie glanced away and then back again. “Did Henrik tell you about them?”

Roxanna nodded. “As much as I could get him to, yes. Security at the entrance, security on Keller, security everywhere.”

The other woman took a step forward, reaching a hand forwards and closing it into a fist around thin air. “You’ll be absolutely fine, Roxanna. We won’t let him get to you again, any of us.”

“I… I know, Essie.” Her fussing couldn’t take away the small, gnawing fear of John’s return. Now that that door had been opened, she couldn’t shut it herself. But trying to drag a solution out of poor Essie, who definitely wouldn’t have one if Henrik didn’t, wouldn’t make it better for either of them.

“I know you know, I suppose what I’m trying to do is make up for past mistakes.”

Roxanna leaned forwards in her seat, as if being closer would make her listen. “None of it was your fault.”

Essie was shaking her head. “I understand what you’re trying to do but I can’t… I need to get moving. Make sure you call someone if you need anything.”

As she disappeared back onto the ward, Roxanna scowled and stared after her. “Damn you, John.”

* * *

 

As she approached their office, she saw Henrik stood over her desk with one hand massaging his temples. The paperwork he’d been dealing with had spilled over from his desk onto hers so it couldn’t have been good. It still felt a little odd not to be working together on whatever hospital matter had him stressed. He walked back to sit at his desk and she crossed the remaining distance to stand in the doorway.

He didn’t look up, finishing writing his sentence. “I thought I told you to call me if you needed me.”

“Our office is just across the ward from my room so…” She nodded in the direction of said room.

He laid down the pen and turned his full attention to her, shaking his head fondly. “There’s just no stopping you going walkabout, is there?”

That said, she was leaning rather heavily against the door frame. “Well, you didn’t visit me during lunch and I’ve already read today’s newspaper twice through.”

He smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, it’s turning out to be one of those days. Lunch was another sandwich from pulses that Sacha brought me up. I haven’t left this desk in hours.” He gestured to the mess on his desk with a significant look of discomfort. Even by her incredibly tolerant standards, and with Henrik’s attempts to find order in it, it looked as bad as it must’ve felt.

She made her way over to him, glancing down at the names on the patient files as she came round to his side of the desk. “It’s the new security measures, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “They’re making everything substantially harder, yes.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t ask for this.”

He turned his chair and offered his hand to her. “Come here.”

She took the hand and lowered herself onto his lap, letting him pull her closer. As she rested her head against his shoulder, she felt as if their roles had been reversed.

“This isn’t because of you, Roxanna, it’s because of John. Like you said, we have to remind ourselves that the responsibility for his actions lies with him,” he uttered, wrapping one arm around her waist. “Although, I feel like apologising myself.”

“What?” Her brow creased.

“I convinced you he wasn’t coming back. I left you unaware,” he stated, very matter-of-factly.

“That’s not how I see it - it helped take away the fear. I don’t know how long it would’ve stuck with me otherwise.”

He nodded, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “How have you managed today?”

“The fear that he’s coming back is at the back of my mind and, every time someone looks at me, I feel as if they can see what a mess I was yesterday.” She glanced away, nestling her head back against his shoulder. “I know I can’t go on like this. But not today, Henrik, please?”

“Of course.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head and rubbed a comforting hand along her arm. “I’m proud of you.”

“What do you mean?” She didn’t feel like something to be proud of. She felt out of control and she didn’t know how to get it back. A month or two ago, she’d been a consultant. Now she wasn’t sure whether she could come back and work here after everyone had seen her fall apart.

“Well, you walked here all on your own, didn’t you?”

She looked at the door. “Point taken, but my fine motor skills are still atrocious.”

“Time, Roxanna.” She rolled her eyes in response, even if he was right. “At least you can cut up your own chicken now.” With a slight smirk, she elbowed him in the stomach. He laughed and held his hand to the spot she’d aimed for. “And elbow me for saying that.”

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, I know I’m lucky to get off with what I did.”

“It should never have happened regardless.” He bristled, as if his head had gone somewhere else. She wondered if his other place was built of car park arguments and syringes of MPTP as well. “There’s been some talk of discharging you, actually. Sometime soon.”

She nodded, not wanting to interrupt such vital information.

“And you could come home with me? With crutches, of course.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’d be alright with that? I know how important your own space is to you.”

He nodded. “It’ll be an adjustment, yes. We’ve both lived in very different…households the majority of our lives.”

It was funny, at least to her, that she should think of David in Henrik’s arms. She hoped he would’ve been happy for them, doing their best to hold onto something good after everything that had happened.

“But they won’t discharge you on your own and I’ll sleep better knowing you’re okay.” He met her gaze. “I _know_ living with me will be different to… different to David, and it will take a while for me to get used to having you in my home.”

“You and David _are_ different people. But, if I can love both of you, I can live with both of you too.” She cupped his cheek, thumb tracing his cheekbone, and nuzzled into his neck. Feeling his cheeks warm, she smiled against his skin.

* * *

 

“Damn it.” Henrik stopped typing and let out an irritated sigh. The office light, along with all the others on the ward, had gone off and the sun had already set outside. Roxanna imagined his computer had met the same fate.

She peered out the doorway from her position curled up in her desk chair. “What happened?”

“It looks like the power’s gone out. I’m sure it’s nothing – stay here, I’ll go and see what happened.” He rose to feet and left the office frowning.

She watched after him – something didn’t feel right about this. It could’ve just been the events of the day before colouring her vision but the more she looked out onto the ward, the more she became convinced that that wasn’t the case. Normally, even in power outages, the staff would try to resume their regular duties. This time, apart from those moving from bed to bed to check the sudden loss of power hadn’t affected any patients, there were groups of them just clustered together. Two F1s stood not far from the office door and spoke in low voices. It was almost as if they were waiting for news.

Tying her dressing gown closed, she used the desk to help herself stand and stepped into the doorway. She could hear them much better from there and they seemed too wrapped up in their conversation to notice her.

“And they’re absolutely sure? He _did_ slip past them,” said the taller of the two.

Her friend gave a hurried nod. “They caught his face on CCTV. It’s him.” He spoke as if talking about a god or some sort of celebrity. It bore an uncomfortable resemblance to how people had talked about John when he first came to Holby.

“I didn’t think he’d come back after what he did to Miss MacMillan yesterday, especially if he hit his head.” Her stomach twisted as she realised they had in fact been talking about John and she barely pulled her attention back to them in time to catch the rest of their conversation.

“What do you think he’s after?”

The female F1 raised an eyebrow. “After? He’s a bad doctor, not a movie villain.”

“You know what I mean – is he coming here?”

Roxanna as the woman mulled it over in her head. “Apparently he was headed down, so I think we’re fine.”

She let out a breath at that and quickly ducked back inside the office as the two F1s looked her way.

Then, as she leaned against the wall, her relief fizzled out. She realised she couldn’t hide forever. She could surround herself with hospital staff and security guards and Henrik’s presence but that would never get rid of John. And the police would never catch him on their own. He was too good for that. She didn’t want that hanging over her the rest of her life. So she had to do something – right then, before she changed her mind.

She could walk the way to the wet lab in her sleep, and what else in the basement could possibly interest John?

She’d head him off before he could hurt anyone else, whatever it did to her. She could break down afterwards but at least she wouldn’t have to hide.

On her journey, she caught snippets of conversation.

“…lockdown…”

“…if they did their jobs properly…”

“…send him my way, I’ll rip him a new…”

It felt like the hospital trying to speak to her, voices that felt as cheated as the deceased trial patients. All the lives John had gambled with, all the ones he had thrown away.

When she reached the basement, she stopped and leaned against the rail. She tried to remember what it felt like to hunt down what John had been hiding, to confront him about it all. Everything had been on her terms and, for just a moment, the power was in her hands. In a sense, it was now as well.

She wondered if Henrik had come back and noticed her gone yet. After she’d done this, she’d have to stop disappearing when he turned his back. She imagined his arm around her waist, holding her up, and stepped out onto the basement corridor.

The door to the wet lab was ajar. The room had been cleared out after John was arrested and all its contents was turned over to the police as evidence. She hadn’t seen much of it since, except one or two of his dictaphone recordings that she’d been asked to give her own account of.

Meena had told her the room looked less sinister as a blank slate, that it was just another hospital room if you squinted hard enough.

She made her way down the rest of the corridor with one hand on the wall as a support and came to a stop beside the door. Through the gap, there was nothing to see but she could hear him moving around in there. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the door and opened it further.

When she first stepped inside, she couldn’t see him. Then she looked to her right and he was in the next room, bent over the desk.

They locked gazes as he straightened up. “Rox.”


	9. Chapter 9

“John.” Rooted to the spot as John walked into the main section of the wet lab, Roxanna was grateful that her words didn’t shake.

“It’s good to see you’re alright after yesterday,” he said. He’d ignored her cold, wary tone and opted to act like a concerned friend, as if nothing had changed between them. “You have to understand, I really didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

“What you mean and what you do are two very different things.” She folded her arms. “I learned that the hard way.”

A twinge of regret crossed his features. “It was necessary, for the work. I was so close, so, so close.”

She rolled her eyes. “Your work is in tatters, John.” Spreading her arms, she gestured to the room around them. “Was it really worth it? All those lives lost, where’s that gotten you?”

He held up his hands in defence. “Mara and Jac are walking, you of all people must understand what it feels like to have that back.”

It felt like she’d been punched in the gut. “Don’t you dare. _You_ put me here, John. I trusted you and you _locked me in_ when you _knew_ what that meant to me!” She stepped further into the room, spurred on by the adrenaline. “You would never have done that to Henrik.”

“Rox…” His face was a picture of sympathy as he reached for her, but she dodged out of his grasp and he drew back. His eyes took on a detached look and his lips became a straight line.

“Why are you here?” She sounded impatient to her own ears, as if she already knew the answer, but she was genuinely curious. Why did John want to come back to a hospital where the first word used to describe him was ‘doctor’ and the second ‘murderer’?

“I needed to see you – the real you – to make sure you’re alright.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She blinked at him talking about the ‘real’ her but that turned into a scoff. She put some distance between them and lowered herself down onto a lab stool that had been left in there by the staff that cleared the room out. “Stop it. Stop caring about me like it’s an afterthought. I’m sick of it.”

“What-”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I saved Jac. I kept your dirty secrets. I covered for you when you missed that joint surgery. Because we’re friends.” Her words started off indignant then dwindled, until ‘friends’ was this tiny, wounded thing that she sounded almost ashamed of. “But I can’t do that for someone who sees me as expendable.”

“I-” he spluttered.

Looking him in the eye, her voice still small and worn out, she asked, “was it always like this? Did you ever tell me, Henrik and David the truth or have you been manipulating us whenever it’s convenient for our entire lives?”

He stumbled over his answer like he had when she’d confronted him in Lisbon. “I don’t know what you want me to say. All three of you are important to me.”

“I don’t know if there’s anything you _can_ say. You can’t undo what you’ve done.”

They both fell silent at this. She wouldn’t lie to him and tell him it was all okay, and he obviously didn’t want to hear the damage he’d done. There was no way forward for them all, not like this.

“I want you to hand yourself in.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“If you want to prove you care about us, hand yourself in and let us get on with our lives.” With each word, her certainty in them grew stronger. “It’s not like you can be a doctor again, nowhere else will take you.”

He put a hand to his chest. “You’d really do that, wash your hands of me?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” She shook her head. “Remind us that the John we knew and loved is still in there and that he cares enough to let us heal. Like you did when David died.”

John stared at her taken aback for a few more seconds but never got chance to reply. The door to the wet lab burst open and Henrik appeared in the doorway, trying to catch his breath. His gaze flickered from John to her. “Roxanna, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” She tried to reassure him with a smile, placing a hand over his as it came to rest on her shoulder.

“Oh, I see how this is,” John said, eyeing them both and stepping back. Whatever progress she’d made with him was now lost. “So that’s it, is it? Just fall into bed with each other and forget old John?”

Henrik frowned. “John, you know that’s not how it is in the slightest.”

John raised his eyebrows. “Really? Then why does Rox want me to turn myself in to the police?”

“Roxanna?” Henrik looked over at her, nodding for her to explain.

She stood up, moving closer to John. “This isn’t about casting you aside, John. I’m angry at you, but you were still our friend,” her voice shook, “I can’t just erase the past thirty years from my memory.”

“Then why are you so hostile?”

“Because this is how it has to end. There is no alternative scenario – it’s broken, we’re broken, and we need to move on.” As she said it, she knew that there was no other outcome she could accept. It was hard enough accepting that such a dear friend was now the stuff of nightmares without that friend not seeing what they’d done.

“So you just want me to go to prison? I could _save lives,_ Rox.”

“We tried that and it didn’t work, did it?”

Open-mouthed, he looked to Henrik for help but the other man only shook his head, shrinking back against the counter he stood in front of.

She moved closer still and it occurred to her that that was the first time in a while that she’d been that close of her own free will. “I’ve come to realise that there is a chance I may never be a doctor again. Believe me when I say there is something more to life than the work. Maybe, if you stop running, you’ll see that.”

And then, closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around him. He froze and she could hear Henrik’s quiet gasp from behind her. But she stood her ground and, eventually, he returned the hug cautiously. His chest rose and fell as he let out a resigned sigh.

In her mind, she was saying goodbye to the small part of him that had truly been her friend and, as much as she ached inside, that sigh felt like victory.

“Wait,” Henrik said behind her.

She pulled away slowly to see that he wasn’t addressing them but instead the three security guards stood at the entrance to the wet lab. Swallowing, she stepped back and let John go. She felt Henrik’s hand on her shoulder, a touch only as intimate as was appropriate for that moment.

As the security officers approached him, one holding handcuffs, John looked to them both with realisation in his eyes. She couldn’t tell if there was remorse there too because, true to form, John was still a puzzle she couldn’t quite figure out. “Can you forgive me?”

“I don’t know.” She looked down at her wrist, where his name had been printed a matter of weeks ago.

“In time, perhaps,” Henrik said, melancholy in his voice.

John nodded absently and let the guards lead him out. At the door, he turned his head back to look at them once more and Roxanna saw a shadow the curly-haired boy from their days in Boston.

“Goodbye, John,” she said.

“Goodbye,” Henrik echoed.

He didn’t reply, just stared with wide eyes until the security officers tugged him along and out of sight.

The wet lab was so silent she could hear the both of them breathing. She could feel the warmth of Henrik’s presence behind her and turned into it, burying her head in his shirt.  

His hand threaded into her hair and he took a deep breath in.

“I take it you called them, then?”

“I did, on my way here. You were right; we can’t move on always wondering if he’s out there. He has to see what he’s done to us, to everyone else.”

“It really is just the two of us then, hmm?” She felt him nod and hold her a little tighter. She clung to him more in return, feeling shaky all over. “What do we do, Henrik?”

“I suppose we should try to move on.”

“How?” Henrik shrugged and she sighed. “I feel like I’ve just thrown everything we’ve ever known out the window.”

“I thought you were actually quite brave.” He shook his head. “No, brave’s not the right word – strong.”

Her breath hitched and, the next thing she knew, tears had sprung to her eyes.

Henrik kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She shook her head and reached up to swipe away her tears. “It’s not like that… I haven’t been feeling very strong lately, that’s all. I didn’t realise that was something I needed to hear.”

He gave her a knowing look. “Perhaps, when you’re ready to talk about it, we should find you a therapist as well.”

“Oh, we need therapy and lots of it.” A laugh bubbled up inside her. When it faded, she pulled back and said, “Let’s go, Henrik, I’m cold.”

“As you wish.” He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, then took her hand. “Lead the way.”

* * *

“I know you’ve had a turbulent few days but, medically speaking, you’re alright to be discharged as discussed,” the locum told them both with a satisfied smile.

“Are you sure?” Henrik asked.

Roxanna swatted his arm. “Henrik!”

The locum chuckled. “I’m sure. I’m not saying there aren’t still issues but those can be dealt with through outpatients.”

Roxanna looked to Henrik, knowing she’d need his agreement if she was going to stay with him.

He must’ve seen the hope in her eyes because he smiled fondly and nodded. “I suppose I can live with that.”

“Excellent! I’ll go and get your discharge papers sorted.”

Minutes later, her bag had taken her place on the bed and Henrik was neatly packing her things away as she fielded mushy goodbyes from, as Serena had put it, everyone and their grandma. She’d promised at least three people she’d call them during the week, and Serena herself had even threatened to turn up on Henrik’s doorstep if she didn’t.

When it seemed to have come to an end, she came to join Henrik using her newly-acquired crutches. “We’ll need to drive by my place and pick up some things.”

“Of course.” He smirked and nodded to the crutches. “You took to those quite quickly.”

“I’ve been waiting for them for weeks, Henrik.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek, feeling lighter and full of energy now that she was minutes from leaving the hospital.

Henrik glanced down at his phone on the bed, where a list was open on the screen. “I have to do some shopping too…”

“Then I can come inside with you and get a few things myself.”

“Roxanna, you’re wearing pyjamas.”

She quickly glanced down at her aggressively pink pyjama bottoms. “If I rolled up my trouser legs and put on a coat, you’d never know the difference. Besides, do _you_ know what shampoo I use?”

She could see him starting to be swayed by her excitement. “Fair point. I suppose it won’t matter, just make sure you go back to the car if you’re too cold.”

Grinning, she grabbed her coat and started to put it on as Henrik zipped up the bag. “Now, onto the actual living arrangements…”

“I have a spare room, if you’d like that.”

She nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. “What about ground rules?”

“We can sort those out when we get there, take our time.” He took both her hands in his. “I want you to be happy.”

A smile bloomed across her lips.

“Ready to go, you two?” Essie appeared in the doorway with her prescription in hand.

“All packed,” Henrik replied, looking down at his list. “Actually, I need to go chase up your medication. I’ll be right back.”

Essie started to raise the hand holding said medication but Roxanna shook her head, and Henrik left the room oblivious.

“Why’d you let him go?” Essie asked.

“I wanted to speak to you alone.”

“Is everything okay?”

Roxanna sighed. “No, actually. You see, this man is- was my friend but he did something I would never do. He experimented with human lives, and then a kind woman who funded his trial thinks all of his misdeeds are her fault, and I don’t know how to convince her otherwise.”

“What if they are her fault and she enabled him?” The other woman’s eyes were wide and her voice was desperate. “What if, without that money, that man would never have had the chance to do what he did?”

“Maybe it wasn’t just her that enabled him. And maybe he would’ve anyway, he always was resourceful.” Roxanna shook her head. “There are other things that are her fault – like _saving_ lives. _That’s_ not a bad thing to be guilty of.”

Essie let out a derisive chuckle. “I don’t think there are enough lives on the planet to make up for this.”

“What about this life?”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t do everything for myself just yet and I need someone to be there when Henrik can’t. I know he likes to think he’ll be available every hour of every day but…” Roxanna shrugged.

“I’ll do it,” Essie replied quickly.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded vigorously. “Absolutely.”

Roxanna smiled.

The moment ended when Henrik came back into view. “The pharmacy said they’d already issued them…” His eyes were drawn to the medication in Essie’s hands. “Ah.”

“I…found them while you were gone.” She quickly pushed them into his hands.

Henrik looked between them and frowned. “Well, I checked and the discharge papers are all in order by now. Are you ready, Roxanna?”

“Of course.” Roxanna stood up and slipped her shoes on. “Goodbye, Essie.”

“Bye, you two!” Essie called after them as they left.

In the lift, Henrik looked to Roxanna and asked, “was I…sensing something back there?”

“What? You must be imagining things in your old age.” She grinned to herself.

“You do realise you’re only a year less geriatric, yes?” he teased, as the lift door opened and they stepped out.

She waved a hand. “Oh, shut up.”

As she crossed the threshold and stepped outside, she stopped and breathed in. Henrik rested a hand at the small of her back.  “Your carriage awaits.”

She saw his car across the car park and let him lead her there and open the car door for her, still not quite sure how she’d made it this far.

“All strapped in?” he asked.

She nodded. “Take it away, chauffeur.”

He set off and left the car park. “I’ll get you back for that one when I’m not trying to watch the road.”

“I _shiver_ with anticipation.” As they rolled to a stop at some traffic lights, Henrik reached onto the back seat and handed her a blanket. “Thanks,” she said, laying it over herself.

When she felt herself falling asleep under the lull of the car’s movement, she almost wanted to freeze time and preserve the feeling of her falling asleep curled up in the passenger seat of Henrik’s car. The only thing that changed her mind was the pull of what was waiting for them.


	10. Chapter 10

Roxanna turned the key in her front door and stepped inside. As she glanced around, she spotted a pile of letters and other pieces of junk mail sat on the end table in her hallway that Henrik had obviously put there but, other than that, nothing had changed.

“It’s exactly as I remember it.” She glanced into the living room and saw the blanket she’d been curled up under the night before the crash sat crumpled on the sofa. “You didn’t tidy it up?”

Henrik nodded, taking off his coat and hanging it up. “I’m sure your mess is just as important to you as my order is to me.”

The words brought a warm feeling to her chest. She sometimes felt a little guilty, considering she and Henrik were polar opposites when it came to that sort of thing. “That’s sweet, Henrik.”

“Why don’t I get started upstairs while you see if there’s anything you need down here?” he suggested.

She looked from the pile of letters to the living room to her house phone, which had remained unanswered for weeks. “Alright, you go on ahead. But no poking around in my underwear.”

“Roxanna!” Having already started climbing the stairs, he turned to look at her, his features deliciously scandalised.

“I meant my underwear drawer – don’t be a pervert, darling.” She smirked and turned her attention to the letters. She saw Henrik carry on upstairs out of the corner of her eye, shaking his head.

Opening up envelope after envelope, she couldn’t find anything interesting that wasn’t a bill. She slipped those into her coat pocket and moved on to the phone.

“You have four new voicemails.”

Her face fell. The first three were sales companies but the fourth began with a distinctly human breath in.

“This is Leo Heywood, from Lisbon. I couldn’t reach you on your mobile and you left me this number when you were investigating…the trial. I just wanted to let you know we’re grateful over here and I hope you have a speedy recovery. I think they might call me as a witness, given how much time he spent here, but that’s all I can say for now.”

As a tone signalled the end of the voicemail, the words carried on circulating inside her head and she pressed the button to save that recording. She hadn’t known the man well when she’d gone to him for information about Lana and John’s activities in Lisbon but his message did mean something. It showed that things were finally moving forward, if not quite moving on.

She straightened up and grabbed her crutches. “I’m coming up!” she shouted up to Henrik, and chuckled when he appeared at the top of the stairs all of a sudden.

She got to the top, albeit a lot slower than usual, and propped the crutches up against the wall. “I should be able to fit everything I need, at least for now, into one suitcase. Which is lucky, because I only have one.”

“Yes, well…” Henrik nodded towards the open door of her bedroom, where she could see Henrik had begun to lay her belongings out on the bed. At the foot of the bed was her half-packed suitcase, the bottom still lined with clothes and other bits and bobs she’d taken with her on her search for answers. Now she remembered how she’d been when she got back, so wired on the urgency of what she’d discovered that she couldn’t get herself to make anything more complicated than a microwave meal, let alone sit down and unpack an entire suitcase.

“Oh.”

The rest of the room was in a similar state – an empty cup of coffee had made brown rings on her nightstand and an array of used plane tickets sat on her dresser. She picked up one of them, running her thumb over it.

Behind her, Henrik sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it,” she said.

“I didn’t say a word.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze and then slipped past her to kneel down beside the suitcase.

Roxanna huffed and started to rifle through her drawers for what she needed. “It’s like someone made a museum of my life before the car crash.” As she was pulling out pairs of socks, a piece of card fell out from in between them. She lifted it up to the light – through the dust in the air, she could see it was the card that Henrik had given her when he agreed to see a therapist. “Henrik.”

He paused and looked up when she held it out to him. “You really did keep it…” he muttered, taking it from her and slipping his free hand into hers.

“It meant a lot to me that you trusted me with that.” She sat down on the end of the bed, resting their joined hands on her knee. “Do you still see her? You said your sessions had finished.”

He nodded, tracing his thumb over her knuckles. “Every two weeks. I went back after everything with John. Oddly enough, even though all hell’s broken loose, we’re starting to make progress.”

“Does it feel better than it did then?” Hope crept into her voice, one that she hadn’t put their purposefully, one that she didn’t expect.

“I feel more in control, if that’s what you’re asking. I still have bad days but I’ve been working on being patient with myself. And on communicating.” He chuckled to himself. “It’s a slow process.”

“It sounds good.” She looked down at their hands and cleared her throat. “I’m glad one of us has our act together.”

“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll help.” He lowered his head to catch her eye. “No more going through things alone.”

She wanted to say something, to express to Henrik how grateful she was, but the words got caught at the back of her throat. So she just smiled and hoped he’d see it in her eyes.

He smiled back. “Although, I think ‘together’ is a bit premature. Sacha’s the only one standing between me and double shifts as a coping mechanism.”

“Henrik!” Her jaw dropped open and she gave his shoulder a little push.

He held his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t tell you about that so you could fuss over me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Consider it revenge for you hovering over me the past few weeks.” She leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips.

A beat of silence followed, in which they both seemed to realise that they were alone and not surrounded by hospital property for the first time since they’d gotten together. She beat him to the punch and pressed her lips to his, this time more insistent, as she tugged him closer.

Eventually, kneeling became too uncomfortable and he moved to sit on the bed beside her. Then he paused and she froze up too. “What’s wrong?” A million answers rushed through her head, until she registered how gently his hand cupped her cheek and it started to make sense. “I won’t break, I promise.”

She let him set the terms, let him hesitate then pull her closer until she was almost sat in his lap. “Roxanna.”

“Henrik,” she replied, as her hands came to rest on his shoulders.

His first kiss was deceptively careful and she itched to push him further, to find what had been so clearly off limits when she was connected to a variety of bleeping machines. The word ‘deceptively’ came to mind because, before she knew it, his kisses deepened and his lips were marking a trail down her throat.

She hummed her approval, threading a hand into his hair. She let her eyes slip closed. What little of her mind that could form a coherent thought was focused on the fact that this was Henrik. Months ago, they were just friends. Now they were each learning what made the other tick, making maps of each other in their heads, as they could’ve done decades before.

Then they were interrupted by the sound of her mobile ringtone.

She groaned as Henrik pulled away, standing up and letting him go (reluctantly).  “That’ll have to save for later.” She allowed herself one last peck before picking up the phone.

“Hello?”

Essie was on the other end, sounding rather amused. “You left a sock behind.”

She bit her lip, wondering which poor soul had had to suffer discovering one of her dirty socks. “Sorry. Henrik’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it was quite a _sock_.” The other woman barely got the words out before she dissolved into laughter.

All Roxanna could do was laugh and shake her head – clearly, she needed to up her game.

* * *

 

After setting her bag down in the spare room, Roxanna wandered back downstairs and heard movement inside the kitchen. Walking into the room, she saw Henrik stood over the hob. “What’s this?”

He looked up and smiled. “Dinner. Or was that a wild animal growling and not your stomach?”

Grinning despite herself, she picked up the tea towel sat on the counter and swatted at him. “Very funny. You’re not going to make me say it in Swedish before you plate it up, are you?”

He made a song and dance of actually considering it. “Well, you do know how to say pasta…” At her glare, he dropped the act. “I’m kidding. I just wanted to see your face when I said it.”

“Cruel,” she muttered, and tucked herself into his side so that he wrapped an arm around her. “How much longer will it be?”

“A good ten minutes yet. Was there something you wanted?”

She bit her lip. “I couldn’t help but notice there’s a lovely throw blanket on your sofa. Sit with me?” Her head rested against his shoulder, she looked up at him and did her best impression of hard to refuse.

With a kiss to her forehead, he said, “I couldn’t think of a better way to pass the time.”

When they settled on the sofa, she rested her head against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. It was almost frightening how natural it felt. “How’re you doing so far?” he asked.

She worried the edge of the blanket between her fingers. “I feel like you do the first night of a holiday; I’m not really sure what my time here will look like.”

“As far as the near future’s concerned, I’ll get up for work in the morning and leave you to sleep in.” She could hear the teasing in his voice. “Then the house is yours. Call me if you need me.”

She snorted. “You make it sound so simple.”

“I simply mean that I want this to be your home too, if that’s what you want.”

She nodded slowly. “You know what we never did today? My Swedish lesson.”

Henrik sighed. “Roxanna, darling, I’m too tired. I’m sorry.”

“Maybe just one word then?” At his nod, she sat up and looked him in the eye, trying to keep a straight face as she said, “How about tomato?”

“Roxanna-” He began, drawing back as if she’d waved the fruit in front of his face.

She put one hand on her hip. “If I’m going to learn a language, I can’t miss such a simple word. Can I, Henrik?”

He rolled his eyes and spoke through gritted teeth. “Fine - en tomat. Now, can we promise never to speak of it again?”

She laughed. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep, sorry.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Agh!” Roxanna jumped back from the oven, white hot pain shooting up her hand, and dropped the tea towel she’d been holding. The baking tray she’d been trying to lift out of it hit the floor with a clang and its contents crumbled out onto the tiles.

At that moment, the front door opened to signal Henrik’s return from work – and the start of their Christmas holiday. Mind racing, she realised there was nothing she could do to clear it all up and make it look like she hadn’t just failed at making flapjack.

Henrik appeared in the doorway, looking from her to the mess of mixing bowls and destroyed food. “Roxanna, what’s going on?”

“Henrik!” His name came out more high-pitched than she intended, pain still searing through the burn on her hand. “I was trying to bake – I just didn’t want you doing all the cooking in this house and…” She gestured around them sheepishly.

His expression softened. He grabbed the tea towel and moved to pick up the tray. “I’ll get the oven, you go run your hand under some cold water.”

When the water began to run, she let out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. “Can it be saved?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

He put the tray right-way-up on the kitchen counter and examined the contents. “It’s not beyond rescuing, although there won’t be quite as much as there would’ve been.” He shut the oven door, turned the oven off and made his way over to her. “What about your hand?”

She considered the burn. Now that it didn’t feel like a tiny fire eating away at her skin, it didn’t look so bad. “It should be fine, it’s not serious.”

“I’ll take that to mean we’re not going to the ED.”

“It’s not even that big, Henrik. Connie’d laugh us out of the building.” She rolled her eyes.

He nodded, reluctantly agreeing with her. “Will you at least put a dressing on it?”

She reached down into the cupboard below the sink and grabbed a dressing out of the first aid box. Drying her hand and applying it, she gave him a pointed look. “Done. Happy?”

“Something like that.” He shook his head fondly. “I think that’s enough of an adventure in the kitchen for now, don’t you? Dinner can wait.”

“Mmm, turns out almost becoming food dulls your appetite somewhat.” She rubbed a hand along her forearm. “We’ll do it together, yes? I know I’m not a brilliant cook, I just don’t like sitting around all the time.”

Henrik had already walked over to the tray. “Of course.”

“Do you think it’s edible?” she said, joining him and peering down at the half-destroyed creation.

“Well…” She shot him a half-hearted glare. “You said it, not me.”

“Just for that, you can taste test it first.” She reached in and broke off a piece. “Open wide,” she said, grinning as she held it up to his face.

Her grin only widened at the moment of hesitation he had before taking a bite out of the piece in her hand.

“So?”

“Not bad, actually.”

“Try not to sound so surprised.” She went to put the rest of the piece in her mouth, only for him to grab her hand.

“Ah, no, that’s my piece. Get your own.” He smirked, swiping the piece from her fingers and walking off in the direction of the living room. She laughed to herself, then plated the rest of it up and followed after him.

Christmas had touched the living room much more than the kitchen. Roxanna had insisted on not just a tree but other decorations too; it gave her something to do other than get annoyed at reruns of Four in a Bed and solve more sudoku puzzles. She’d wrapped tinsel around the shelf above the fireplace and the bookshelf, and most of their presents to each other and from other people were already sitting under the tree’s multi-coloured lights.

Henrik had started a fire in fireplace and was getting comfortable on the sofa, so she placed the plate down on the coffee table and joined him.

“You did a good job.” At her confused look, he added, “with the decorations.”

“Thanks. It took longer than expected but I already have far too much time on my hands.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

She shook her head. “Nothing that you aren’t doing already. I’m not… _allowed_ off my crutches for extended periods of time until my physio says so.”

He frowned. “Other people’s say-so never stopped you before.”

“If I jump the gun and end up hurt, it’ll just be more fuss. I don’t want that – I’ve gotten used to you worrying and, to an extent, Essie as well but that’s it.”

“I see…” He sighed and gave a solemn nod.

“How was work?” she asked, not happy with where the mood was heading.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, really.” From the lack of detail in his answer, she could tell he didn’t realise why she was asking.

“Indulge me, Henrik. I miss it.” She gave him a pleading look and saw realisation cross his face. “I don’t care if all you did was listen to a story about someone’s late husband, I want to know.”

“Well, there’s the added chaos of the hospital not having permanent management at the moment.”

Her brow creased. “What happened to Abigail?”

“She left when the news about John got out. For the moment, Serena and I are sharing the workload but the back and forth isn’t good for the hospital.”

“Why don’t you just take it on yourself?”

“I won’t lie, it has crossed my mind…”

“But?” she prompted.

“But then I’d have even less time to spend with you. I know sitting at home and twiddling your thumbs isn’t exactly you – or either of us, for that matter.” He slipped his hand into hers, squeezing it. “We only get a few hours together as it is some days.”

“What about when I’m back at work?”

He nodded slowly. “Perhaps. We’ll have to see what happens.”

* * *

After dinner, they returned to their spot in front of the fire and Roxanna brought with her the biggest glass of wine she could get away with on the medication she was taking. They’d turned the tree lights on, flashing all different colours onto the wrapping paper beneath.

Looking at their presents sitting side by side, she thought of how easy it had been to slot their lives together. Their belongings sat side by side: her clothes in his closet, her toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. It still felt surreal, like this wasn’t quite her life but one she’d borrowed off an alternate Roxanna who had never stopped growing closer to Henrik.

Leaning into him, she asked, “Henrik, can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

She took a slow sip of wine as she tried to piece the words together. “Before the incident, I confronted John about the trial and I… I accused him of introducing me to David to separate you and I before we got too close.”

When he just nodded, she frowned and her mind jumped to fill in the blanks as to why – had she made the wrong decision in telling him? Was he so upset that he just wasn’t reacting? Had she ruined their holiday before it had even started? “Henrik?” She swallowed against the knot in her throat.

“I know, Roxanna, I know,” he said, the hand on her arm squeezing gently as she relaxed beneath his fingers. “Or I suspected, at least. Ever since it all came out, I’ve been questioning all the guidance he ever gave me.”

She frowned. “Guidance?”

“I told him about my feelings for you and he advised me not to tell you any of it,” he explained with a bitter note in his voice.

“Ah.”

“But none of that matters to me right now.” She looked up to see the warmth in his eyes. “We’re here. I’m trying to think of the good things to come, the thought of this maybe being _our_ home…”

“It’s odd to think of it like that. Sometimes I still feel like a house guest.” She bit her lip. “Maybe I could join you tonight?”

“In bed?”

“We’ve slept together before.” She felt the vibrations of his laughter and elbowed him gently. “Not like that, you filthy man… But we could, if you wanted to?”

“Are you sure the wine hasn’t gone to your head?” he quipped. “Well, if we’re doing this, we’ll need an early bedtime.”

“How’d you figure that?”

“We’ll need some time to _actually sleep_ and...” he leaned in closer and his nonchalant tone changed to a deep whisper “…I like to be thorough.”

A shiver ran through her and, suddenly, the wine didn’t seem important anymore.


	12. Chapter 12

Roxanna pulled her coat further around her and sat down on the park bench, leaning her crutches against the bench. It was cold enough that there weren’t many people around yet – the path was too icy for jogging and the wind too chilly for anyone to visit for fun – but at least it was dry.

Shivering, she unlocked her phone, scrolled through her contacts to find Essie’s number and called her.

As soon as it connected, Essie said, “What happened?”

Roxanna frowned. “I haven’t even said anything yet. Why do you automatically assume something’s happened?”

“Well, it’s Henrik’s day off and you’re not making the most of it with him, so something’s different.” After a beat, she added, “and you normally laugh when I start off with that.”

“Right…” She sighed. “Sorry.”

“So what happened?”

“I…”

Before she could answer, Essie interrupted, “Listen, I’m really sorry, but I’m getting called away. I can hand you over to Sacha though, if that’s okay?”

The last thing she wanted was for Essie to feel bad for not being able to talk to her because of work. “Of course, I don’t want to keep you.” Part of her wondered if Sacha might understand better, even if she felt a little guilty thinking that.

A few moments later, Sacha spoke. “Essie says you’re not doing so good.”

“Not exactly, no.” She fidgeted with the buttons on her coat. “I’m sat on a park bench in an empty park and it’s so freezing that I can see my breath.”

“How did you get there?” She could hear confusion in his voice.

“I ran out on Henrik this morning, for starters.” Now that she was sat still, she’d processed what had happened and the regret had started to weigh on her. It was such a sharp change from how happy they'd been over the holidays. “After that, I just…wandered.”

“I thought things were going well between you two?”

“They were – they are. It’s just me, in _my_ head. I feel like I’m getting in the way of putting back all the Christmas decorations.” She bit her lip, the anxiety she’d felt so strongly before she’d walking out rising inside her again. “I know Henrik doesn’t mean anything by it, he’s just trying to put everything away for his own sake, and he didn’t actually _say_ anything - we’ve dealt with the whole ‘Hurricane Roxanna versus Henrik Hanssen’ thing a lot better than I thought we would.”

“You sound stressed.”

“I…” She massaged her temples. “I feel like a spare part, sitting at home all the time. I suppose I didn’t realise how much I depended on work.” The mantra she’d sworn by back at Boston now seemed ridiculous – it could never be ‘nothing but the work’, at least not for her.

“Look, why don’t you come to the hospital and you can sit in Pulses until you’re ready to go back?” When she didn’t reply, looking down at her hands, he added, “I’ll see if I can get someone to keep you company for a bit.”

“He’ll be worried if I’m gone too long,” she protested.

“Then you can call him, or I can, just don’t sit out in this cold,” he said. “He’ll understand. He’s been in a bad place too, he’s probably already guessed what’s up.”

With a few seconds’ hesitation, she agreed, “I’ll see you soon, then. Can you call him for me?”

“Sure. Take care, Roxanna.”

* * *

 

Several hours later, she returned home. The warmth enveloped her as she closed the front door and hung up her coat and scarf. With tentative steps, she found Henrik sat in the dining room with a shopping bag on the table and various assorted objects around it, like a roll of tape and a spool of deep brown thread.

“Ah, you’re back.” When he caught sight of her, he stood up from the chair he’d been sat in and moved towards her.

She frowned, looking at plastic shopping bag. “What’s all this? We did this week’s shopping yesterday.”

“This is for…a special occasion.” She knew he was being deliberately vague but didn’t have the energy to try and figure out why. He reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to talk?”

“I’ll try.” She took a deep breath in and laid her hand over the one on her shoulder. “It feels like we’ve been here before.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.” She raised an eyebrow and he elaborated, “if we’ve gotten through this before, that means we can do it again.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Then allow me.” He cupped her cheek with one hand. “I’m sorry if I was too rushed in clearing everything away. The mess just doesn’t sit right with me, it’s too…chaotic.”

“My head was…looking for problems where there weren’t any. It’s not your fault.” She turned into his hand, letting the scent of cedarwood wash over her. “How did you know?”

“You left, upset as you were, right after I started on the living room. It was an educated guess.” He gave her a small smile. “Then Sacha called and told me you were there. Are you feeling any better?”

She looked away. “I’d like for us just to forget it ever happened.”

“I can do that.” He pulled her into a warm embrace and she felt a sense of relief as she slid her arms around his waist. “We’re not going to get it right every time, darling.”

She nodded, nestling her head against the shoulder of his jumper.

They stayed like that for a while until she pulled back and looked past him at the things on the table. “So, what is all this?”

“Well, if you sit here, I’ll show you.” He gestured to the chair he’d been sat in. She followed his instructions, all the while trying to figure out what he could possibly have up his sleeve that involved an urgent trip to the supermarket.

He reached behind the plastic bag and lifted up a teddy bear, which he then placed in front of her and said, “this is the patient, his name is Björn and he needs emergency spinal surgery and a kidney bean transplant.”

“He needs _what_?”

“You heard me.” With a deadly serious expression, he pulled a tray of scissors, thread, tape and other assorted items (like washing pegs) over to her. “Now, hurry up, I did this say this was an urgent operation.”

“This is what you went to the shop for?” She was honestly touched at the lengths he’d gone to to prepare this ‘scenario’ for her. “Henrik…”

“It was all I could get hold of at short notice. A little bit bizarre, but I’m sure it’s more entertaining than if I’d have brought home something the F1s use to practise their suturing.”

“Are you telling me you cut a teddy bear open and put kidney beans inside him?”

“Not just kidney beans, actually.” She raised her eyebrows. “He has a break in his rather celery-like spinal cord so you’ll need to clamp that in place and tape it back together.”

“Because that’s just how we mend the spinal cord, isn’t it?” She smirked.

“Precisely. I’ll be in the kitchen making tea if you need someone to assist, but I’m sure you can handle it on your own.” He planted a kiss on her forehead then left her to it.

She grinned - she couldn’t help thinking how lucky she was to experience this side of Henrik. It was a side that she’d missed seeing glimpses of when his troubles had swallowed him up. That meant that he was happy enough, happy with her, she hoped.

“Alright, Björn, let’s open you up.”


	13. Chapter 13

As Henrik came to sit on her side of the bed and placed a steaming hot cup of coffee on the nightstand, she kept her eyes closed and snuggled further down into the covers. She heard a light chuckle above her and felt his gentle fingers brush against her cheek.

“Time to wake up, darling.”

She let out a little groan in protest and turned over onto her back, pressing her lips against his palm. “Do I have to?”

“I’m afraid so. I know, I know – it’s just _so_ cruel.” There was an amused edge to his voice.

“I’m not used to getting up this early anymore.” Her eyes drifted open and she gave him a sleep mirror image of his own smirk. “I need my beauty sleep.”

Henrik scoffed. “Hardly.”

“Charmer.” A subtle blush crept up her cheeks. This she was still getting used to – his quiet reverence. Never one for loud gestures, but he’d be damned if she ever forgot she was loved.

“Is that coffee?” She pushed herself into a sitting position, reached for the cup on the nightstand and closed her eyes for a second as the liquid met her tongue.

“There’s some breakfast waiting for you downstairs as well, once you’ve gotten dressed.”

She paused halfway through lifting the cup to her lips again and stared down into the drink. It was her first day back and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face the pressure of the job or the torrent of gossip about her recovery, her and the trial, her and Henrik, her and basically anything.

He rested a hand over hers where it was wrapped around the cup. “You’re going to be fine, Roxanna.”

She reached out an arm to him and he leaned in and wrapped her in a hug. Sighing, she pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

When they pulled back, she said, “you’re going to end up spoiling me, Henrik.”

Henrik laughed. “If coffee and a cooked breakfast are all it takes, consider yourself spoiled.” He stood up, ran a hand through her hair and laid a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t be too long.”

* * *

When they got to the hospital, she approached Pulses. “Double espresso, please.” Henrik raised an eyebrow. “Don’t give me that look, I need this.”

He held his hands up in defence. “I’m not judging you, I’m just surprised. You already had one of those at home.”

“If today goes badly, I might have to switch to wine.” She took the drink and paid. Trying to calm the turning of her stomach, she took a sip of the hot liquid.

“Leave the pessimism to me, thank you,” Henrik teased, holding the lift door open for her. When she was inside and the door had closed, he took her free hand in his. “Just remember you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

“I’ll try and keep that in mind when I nearly kill someone.” At his sigh, she jumped to add, “kidding! Lunch at one?”

As the lift doors opened onto Keller, he replied, “I’ll be there.”

Dom was stood not far away, talking to Essie, and he tapped her on the shoulder when he spotted them. “Look who’s back.”

Essie followed his nod in their direction, a smile spread across her face and she walked over to meet them. “Roxanna! Welcome back.”

“It’s good to be back,” Roxanna gave them a shaky smile, feeling the weight of Henrik’s hand at the small of her back, “although they still haven’t cleared me for surgery.”

Essie nodded. “That’s right. The locum’s still covering, isn’t she?”

Dom interrupted, “Welcome to Hotel Non-Surgical, here’s hoping your stay’s shorter than mine was.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Roxanna said. She chuckled, but part of her felt a tinge of worry at that; it was bad enough that she was coming back to work after a long time of and not able to go into theatre, she couldn’t imagine that state of half-usefulness going on for so long.

“Roxanna!” She turned to see Sacha approaching them and a smile spread across her face.

Then Dom asked, “Mister Hanssen, can I borrow you for something?”

Henrik looked to her with a question in his eyes and she nodded in lieu of squeezing his hand or kissing his cheek, not knowing where they stood on that kind of thing in public. “Go on, I can handle this.”

He nodded back and followed Dom off into the ward so she turned her attention back to Sacha, who had finished making his way over to her.

“Glad to have you back,” he said, wrapping her in a warm hug.

She smiled into his shoulder. “Nice to see you too, Sacha.”

When they pulled back, he asked, “How are you feeling after we talked on the phone the other day?”

“I never did say, did I? It worked out fine in the end, so I’m not a nervous wreck today.”

“Well, if you need anything – even just someone to lend an ear – I’m around.” He nodded at the rest of the ward behind him. “We all are.”

She blinked to stop herself from tearing up. “Thank you, that means a lot.”

“Right, I should let you go and say hello to everyone else. You’ve been missed.” Then he paused, as if remembering something. “Oh, before you go – if some of the staff are a bit funny, irritable, it’s probably not because of you. We had a CQC inspection while you were gone and it’s left some people a bit jumpy.”

She frowned. “A CQC inspection?”

“Yeah, looking into institutional management.” He lowered his voice before telling her, “the hospital’s not in good shape right now. The board are taking proposals on Friday to reassign the funding given to Gaskell’s trial, probably hoping whatever it is can pull them back into the media’s good graces.”

Her brow creased further. “Henrik mentioned the lack of CEO but not this…”

“I’m not surprised – it made us all uncomfortable, particularly Henrik.” Sacha sighed. “I’m sorry you couldn’t have come back under better circumstances.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be. Where to first?”

“Meena’s over by the nurses’ station. Maybe start there?”

* * *

Roxanna dropped the folder onto the desk in Henrik’s study, coughing as a cloud of dust rose up into her face. Essie had dropped her off on the way home from work while Henrik was held up in a meeting with the CQC and Roxanna had rather ambiguously asked her if they could stop at her place first to pick something up. That something now sat on the desk with old, heavily-annotated sheets of paper sticking out at different angles.

“Alright, let’s see what we have here,” she said, sitting down and starting to rifle through the folder’s contents.

The first thing she produced was an aged picture of her mum from before she’d become locked in, nestled on top of stacks of notes, neat diagrams and hurriedly scrawled ideas – some of which she’d written in the middle of the night then later realised they made no sense.

Whenever she thought of the project she’d had in Boston, she thought of how she missed it and how she regretted giving it up. Although, the latter hadn’t been entirely her fault – that piece of her notes on the chalkboard that she could’ve sworn wasn’t the same as what she’d written was the start of it. It hindered her enough that, when she graduated, her progress was just too insignificant to prioritise it over regular work.

Then her mum died and she buried her project material even further under all the clutter her and David kept in storage.

She set about re-reading her own notes and, before she knew it, she looked up and Henrik was stood in the doorway to the study. “Hello, darling. I didn’t think you’d still be up.” He walked over and kissed the top of her head, a hand resting on her shoulder.

She returned it with a quick kiss to his hand. “I didn’t hear you come in. What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock. You didn’t stay up waiting for me, did you?”

Her lips quirked upwards. “No, I was looking at this.” She gave the paper in her hand a little shake, lifting a hand to massage the ache in her neck.

Henrik peered down at the writing. “Ah, your research from university. Your hand writing’s changed quite a bit…” He held a hand out, as if to asking permission to take the paper, and she nodded. “Why the sudden renewed interest?”

“Would you mind terribly if I said it was a surprise?” She bit her lip; she was intent on pulling it off and she preferred that Henrik crush her dreams after the board refused her proposal, not before.

He chuckled. “I suppose it’s only fair – I did spring a bear with two kidney beans and a spine of celery on you.”

“I still can’t get over that.” She shook her head. “He _is_ cute though.”

He grinned at her. “Is that why he’s sitting on your bedside table, sans produce?”

She gave him a mock glare. “You leave Björn alone, he’s hibernating.”

“I’ll _bear_ that in mind,” he said as his grin widened. She groaned at that and shook her head again, wincing when the movement aggravated the pain in her neck. “Here, let me.” Henrik took her hand from the back of her neck and replaced it with his own. Her heart fluttered a little at the comfortable intimacy of the touch, once again surprised by how much the physical side of their relationship had changed.

“Oh, Henrik, that’s perfect.” A few moments passed in quite pleasant silence – at least for her – before she said, “I never did ask you how it went with the CQC meeting.”

He gave a heavy sigh. “They gave us some pointers for improvement. We’ll be going over them with all the staff tomorrow morning and again when the next shift starts, so there’s no point in me telling you now.” His hands slowed slightly. “They seemed very keen on me filling the post of CEO permanently.”

“Why don’t you?”

“You know my reasons, Roxanna.”

She frowned. “You said you’d consider it when I returned to work. It’s not like I won’t have some contact with you at work anyway, with me being clinical lead of Neuro.”

His hands stilled at the back of her neck and he let out another sigh. “I know, I know. They want someone with experience, a strong leader to guide the hospital through the fallout of this scandal and I’m not sure I fit the bill anymore.”

“You’re not blaming yourself, are you?”

“No, no. At least, I’m actively trying not to. It’s a general feeling more than anything else.”

“I see.” She reached up to take one of his hands in hers. “But, when Jac was ill, you said it came naturally to you?”

“I did…”

“And you enjoy it, I know you do.”

“You think so, do you?” There was a smile in his voice.

“I saw you in that office when I first came to Holby. It made you happy, gave you something to take pride in.” She squeezed his hand and turned her head to meet his gaze. “I won’t tell you what to do, but promise me you’ll think about it.”

“Of course.” As a thank you, she laid a kiss on the hand she held. “Are you coming to bed?”

She glanced at the papers scattered all over the desk then back to him. “Just give me a bit longer on this.”

“Very well, but don’t be too long or I’m replacing you with Björn.”

She laughed. “Noted, I’ll be there.”


	14. Chapter 14

Roxanna looked up as Ric emerged from the boardroom. When he spotted her sat on the bench, he seemed surprised. “Roxanna, I didn’t know you were presenting too. A bit daring, don’t you think?”

“Don’t act like you haven’t done it too.” She hoped her smirk didn’t betray any of the jittery nerves she’d had on the way to present her idea to the board, or the number of times she’d almost changed her mind about the whole thing. “I’ll be fine, Ric. How are they? What do I have to deal with?”

He paused to think, brow creasing, then said, “Not too bad. I think, despite my best efforts, my project just wasn’t what they were looking for.”

“They turned you down?”

He nodded. “Unfortunately. But don’t let that put you off - as long as you have something interesting up your sleeve and don’t just try to sell them snake oil, you stand a chance.”

She glanced down at the folder in her lap then back up at him. “That’s the idea.”

The door opened and a member of the board poked his head out. “We’re ready for you now.” If he too was shocked to see her, he didn’t show it.

Ric gave her a nod. “Good luck.”

With a smile, Roxanna entered the boardroom and came to stand in front of the table. Her eyes caught Henrik’s and she gave him a slight nod as a hello, watching the look of a deer caught in headlights cross his face for a moment. He’d agreed to take on the position of CEO that morning, just in time to be involved in this process. The man who’d shown her in nodded for her to begin.

She took a deep breath and said, “Thank you for this chance. First of all, I want to introduce the woman who inspired this project. Her name was Anne MacMillan – she was my mother and she had locked in syndrome.”

She paused, seeing realisation dawn on a number of the faces in front of her. They knew what she’d been through but, somehow, knowing the connection she’d already had the condition brought a new meaning to what John Gaskell had done to her.

Not wanting to get caught up in thoughts of him, she carried on. “I’m sure you’ve been shown more statistics than you can shake a stick at today, so you can find mine in my notes.” She removed a stack of stapled-together paper booklets from her folder and placed it on the table for the board members to pass around. “I intend to develop an artificial pathway that will both restore blood flow, if there’s any damage to the surrounding blood vessels, and recover some functionality beside…blinking. You can find a diagram of this in my notes as well. I’ll be replacing both neurones and blood vessels, if necessary.”

“And when would you begin human trials with this…pathway?” asked one of the board members.

“Not straight away, of course. Only when it’s ready.” She paused before adding, “as passionate as I am about this, I won’t endanger people’s lives for the sake of progress. I’m first hand evidence of how that ends.”

Another one of the board bit her lip, leafing through her notes. “If it were someone else, I would have made my decision in your favour by now. It may only be a theory now but it sounds promising and, if done well, could lead to great things. But it’s not anyone else and I’m sure you’re aware of how it’d look for the hospital to invest in a project run by someone so close to Project Lazlo. Give us a reason to throw caution to the wind.”

“From what I gather, Holby isn’t in the best condition.” Roxanna sent a knowing look Henrik’s way, which didn’t go unnoticed by the others in the room. “You – we – need a miracle. Let me be that miracle. What little success came out of Project Lazlo wasn’t entirely down to John Gaskell and he certainly wasn’t the best doctor to come out of Boston, just the loudest.”

At first, she’d scrambled to find a proper reason. But, once she’d started, the words came out of their own accord. It felt surprisingly good to sing her own praises just a tiny bit.

The woman nodded slowly. “Normally, this is where we’d discuss but I don’t think that’ll get us anywhere. We all already know what’d be said so I suggest we call a vote. Although I’d like to request Mister Hanssen stay out of it, considering the two of you are…”

“Partners,” Roxanna supplied, with a hint of a smile. “We’re partners.”

“Yes, anyway, all those in favour?”

She watched as hands raised and couldn’t quite believe her eyes when she saw that it was a majority. There were a few with disgruntled faces who hadn’t raised their hands and some of those who had raised them had done so with uncertainty, but that didn’t matter.

“Well, Miss MacMillan, it seems you’ve convinced us,” the woman said, nodding to Roxanna. Then she turned her attention to the man who’d opened the door. “Is there anyone else outside?”

He stood up, opened the door and looked around before announcing, “no, no one’s there.”

“Well, now that’s done, Pulses anyone?”

The board started to pack up, the noise level rising in a way that vaguely reminded Roxanna of the end of class in a school. Henrik rose from his seat and walked round the table to meet her.

“That was quite the surprise, Miss MacMillan.” Despite the formalities, she could see pride in the hint of a smile he had.

As the rest of the board filtered out, she replied, “is that so, Mister Hanssen?”

A silence passed between them as her grin grew wider, until the door shut and they were alone. Then, bubbling with excitement, she rose up onto her toes and kissed him.

When they separated, his arms were wrapped around her waist and hers rested on his chest. “You never told me you were planning this,” he said.

She laughed. “That’s the definition of surprise, Henrik. Although I’m sorry if this was exposing for you. I know you like to keep work and home separate.”

“Well, they aren’t wrong – you _are_ my partner. We live together, sleep together and I only spend every spare moment thinking about you.” He said it so very flippantly that any worry she had dissipated. “It was bound to happen eventually, our roles at work are too closely related to avoid it.”

“Aren’t you glad you took my advice and accepted the CEO position? We wouldn’t have had this delightful exchange otherwise,” she teased.

“Alright, don’t rub it in.” He rolled his eyes. “Well done, darling, your mother would be proud.”

She leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you. I’d like to think so too.”

* * *

“You work quickly.” She looked up when Henrik entered, seeing him take in the changes she’d made to the wet lab. “It looks so different.”

“Oh, Henrik.” She straightened up and put down the pen she’d been writing on the board with. “I thought I’d do something to fill the time while you finished up.”

“Yes, well, we got into theatre and it wasn’t as complicated as originally assumed…” He shook his head and approached the board, brushing his hand across the photograph placed in the top right corner. “Your mother, yes?”

She nodded. “She’s the reason for all this. And she’s my conscience – I don’t want to do what I did last time.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I have faith in you.”

That brought out a smile in her. “You could join me, if you wanted to? It’d almost be like being back in Boston.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I can’t take this away from you, not even a little bit. I’ll help but this is all yours, Roxanna.”

“Henrik…” She rose up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Are you ready to go home?” Then, smirking, he added, “or should I leave you to become one with the furniture?”

With a chuckle, she shook her head. “No, home is good.”

“Excellent – our bed isn’t the same without you.”

She raised her eyebrows as she grabbed her coat and bag off of one of the stools. “When did it become our bed?”

“Well, I suppose that’s not strictly true. It’s more like 25% my bed and 75% yours.”

She mock-gasped. “Excuse you!”

He shrugged. “You hog the bed-”

“If this is about last night, I’m sure that in my sleep addled state I was just looking for a cuddle.”

“I respect your…tactile nature, darling, and it’s one of the things I love about you. But it was 2am and you knocked me onto the floor.”

She felt her cheeks heat up. “Maybe I could make it up to you?”

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, sliding his arms around her waist.

“Take me home and find out.”


	15. Chapter 15

Roxanna laid several blue folders out on the desk in the wet lab, each one belonging to one of the trial candidates she’d interviewed that morning. She’d tried not to get drawn in by their stories but that was made much harder the more she tried to steer clear of John’s habits, and she found their conversations stuck in her head.

Meeting potential patients had made everything so much more real and it had her remembering her time on the other side of the equation, wondering if she could bear to get their hopes up and then possibly end up disappointing someone as desperate as she’d been back then.

_“Everything okay…” The old woman trailed off, not knowing her name, and came to stand beside Roxanna in the corridor outside the ward her mum was on. She’d seen the woman every day that week, sat with a man in the bed across from them, but only her dad had actually struck up conversation with her._

_“Roxanna,” she supplied. She wrapped her hands around the warmth of her foam coffee cup and smiled weakly. “It’s okay, I wouldn’t want to bother you.”_

_“I’m sure you wouldn’t, that’s why I’m asking.” The woman gave her a stern look. “I saw you leave, you couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”_

_Roxanna sighed and looked down into her drink. “Do you ever wish there was something we could do to…fix it?”_

_“The Locked In Syndrome?” She nodded. “I’d be lying if I said no but I’ve learned not to expect miracles.”_

_Her brow furrowed. “Why does it have to be a miracle? Doctors find new cures all the time.” She knew it was more complicated than that but she wanted her mum back to the way she was so badly that she’d started to grasp at straws._

_“I know, you miss her. I felt like that too when it first happened – I still do now.” She glanced up at the woman’s face and found a far-off look in her eyes. “I pictured us growing old together, you know.”_

_Roxanna bit her lip and suddenly felt very aware that she wasn’t the only one whose loved one was locked in. “I’m sorry, it must be hard.”_

_“Don’t be, honey. We_ are _growing old together, just not the way I thought we would. We still say hello every morning and I still kiss him goodnight, even if he can’t kiss me back.” The woman hesitated before adding, “I’m not saying you should quit whining, it’s different for everyone.”_

_“I don’t think I can ever be…at peace with it like you are.”_

_“Then you’ll just have to wait for that miracle, won’t you?”_

_Roxanna’s shoulders slumped. “What if I can’t?”_

_The woman cocked her head as she contemplated her question. “Have you ever heard of ‘if you want something done right, do it yourself’?"_

* * *

Henrik looked up at her when she entered the CEO’s office – once again his – with a mix of concern and confusion. She gave him a quick smile and brought the folder in her hand up for him to see.

“I have the notes you asked for,” she said, as she approached the desk and held them out.

Frowning, Henrik took them from her and put them down in front of him, then returned his attention to her. “Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but why did you need to deliver them in person?”

She bit her lip; she wasn’t sure whether he’d approve of her abusing her connection and his rank to get away from the rest of the hospital. “I’m on my break and I need to decompress, so I thought I’d borrow your sofa for a lay down.”

His frown melted away into a fleeting look of relief. “Of course.” Before she could turn away, he held up a finger. “Actually, I can do better than that. Just a moment.” She watched as he put the lid back on his pen and sorted whatever he’d been working on back into a neat pile on one side of the desk. Then he stood and offered his hand out to her.

“You’re right, this is better.” Grinning, she took his hand and followed him over to the sofa on the other side of the room. He sat down first, patting his knee, and she joined him a moment later by resting her head in that spot and stretching her body out along the length of the sofa.

As his fingers started to comb through her hair, she felt herself relax. “We do this too often.”

“That’s because you like this, this physical affection.”

She didn’t deny it – it was something she hadn’t realised until after David’s death, how important touch was to her. It wasn’t that words and sentiments weren’t comforting, but there were some pains that could only be dealt with by being held tight and listening to the sound of a heartbeat. “Do you like it?”

“I like doing it for you and it costs me next to nothing. It’s…peaceful.”

“In that case, you’re definitely spoiling me.”

“What’s the point in having these little interludes in my office if I can’t give you preferential treatment?” He gave her an incredulous look, making her laugh and shake her head. “Why did you need to decompress, then?”

“I spent this morning talking to potential patients for my trial. All of their stories are on my mind.” As the concern returned to his features through the creases in his forehead, she added, “Don’t worry, I know I can’t help them all. I might not even be able to help one of them.”

“You can only try, darling.” His free hand covered hers, which were resting on her stomach, and gave them a light squeeze.

She gave a deflated hum in agreement. “What do you say to dinner tonight?”

“Do you have the time?”

She nudged him gently. “Henrik, I have no intention of letting this project separate us. I’ll always make time.”

“Then I accept, on one condition.” She nodded. “We’re having Italian and you’re paying.”

“That’s two,” she said, smirking.

Henrik narrowed his eyes. “You sound awfully sure of yourself for someone who’s paying.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, there was something else… Are you free this weekend as well?”

“I suppose so, why?”

“I’ve been invited to an event in London by a potential funder. It’s formal and I’m allowed to bring a plus one…” She trailed off, sending a pleading look his way.

“For the _whole_ weekend?”

“Just Saturday, but it finishes late so we’ll need Sunday to get home and recover.” When his lips set into a thin line, she knew she wasn’t convincing him. “The hotel’s paid for, Henrik. The rooms are lovely, they have a spa, breakfast doesn’t finish until eleven…”

He sighed. “Which is all well and good, but my idea of a relaxing weekend away isn’t being arm candy while you navigate the choppy waters of medical politics.”

“It’s a four-hour event starting at half seven. We could check in the night before and have the whole day to ourselves.”

“You make a tempting offer, Miss MacMillan.” He let out another sigh, this one fonder, and acquiesced, “you have yourself some arm candy.”

“Thank you, darling.” She sat up a little to give him a peck on the lips. “I promise you won’t regret it.”


End file.
